


The Masters

by Sub_Zero_MKA



Series: Marvel Chronicles [1]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Canon Divergence - Post-Avengers (2012), F/M, Gen, The Avengers meet their match, The heroes don't always win, Things go from bad to worse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-06
Updated: 2017-12-27
Packaged: 2018-12-11 22:53:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 24,377
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11724282
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sub_Zero_MKA/pseuds/Sub_Zero_MKA
Summary: After the Battle of Manhattan, the Avengers have established themselves as the Earth's defenders. Any threat that comes their way, they always find a way to overcome it. However, what starts as another innocuous mission turns into their quickly turns into the most harrowing challenge they have ever faced.





	1. The Day Is Brightest Before The Dusk

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so I wrote this a few years ago over on Fanfiction.net, so you guys probably already know how this is going to go. But, I rewrote it since the writing hasn't aged well at all. I figured I'd post it over here to see how you guys like it.

_ **The Masters** _

 

_**The Day Is Brightest Before The Dusk** _

 

**Stark Tower**

 

**June 13, 2013 – 4:30 PM**

 

Another day, another hard battle for the Avengers, Earth's Mightiest Heroes. They got the call hours earlier from the mayor of Houston, Texas about a swarm of wasps and ants that had appeared out of nowhere. Normally, that would have been a job for the Orkin man, but it turned out that they were all the size of luxury sedans. Which, as didn't need to be said, wasn't normal.

 

When they arrived, Thor and Iron Man immediately engaged a hundred of the airborn pests. Their stingers were hardier and their venom was more potent. One sting killed a normal sized man in seconds. The same with the ants. Their mandibles were capable of crushing steel with ease. The Avengers stuck on the ground had to keep on their toes to keep from being snapped in half.

 

Hawkeye did his best to weave around the massive insects, while Black Widow laid into them with the quinjet's fifty caliber ordnance. She managed more hits than misses, but her misses ripped holes through buildings, cars, and almost people, if not for Quicksilver moving them out of the way in time.

 

Scarlet Witch was more than capable of handling the ants with her telekinesis and hex magic. Simple spells turned them from giant monsters to giant beds of flowers. Between her and Spider-Woman and her bio-electric blasts, they made short work of the insect swarm from Brobdingnag. Thor and Iron Man – well, mostly just Thor was needed – carved through the wasps in record time. The city sustained only minimum damage, and there was no loss of life.

 

All in a day's work from the Avengers.

 

Quicksilver, Pietro Maximoff, was the first out of the quinjet and into the common sitting area of Stark Tower, the Avengers' headquarters. He wasn't even winded after running for a cumulative thirty miles during the mission, as was usually the case. He sat down on the largest sofa, and was just about to kick his feet across it when his twin sister, Wanda, sat down just before.

 

She smirked at his annoyed glare. "Brother, do you mean to tell me you would not rather sit next to your dear sister?" she teased.

 

"Of course not," he replied with a sly smirk. He placed his feet in her lap and sighed contently, much to her consternation. "You make a rather comfortable foot rest."

 

"Well, that happened," Tony Stark declared. He had taken his battered suit off by simply walking down the balcony. There was a spinning platform that removed the individual pieces from his body as he walked and took them down below to his workshop so his machines could repair what needed repairing. "I could use a drink."

 

"You speak my language, mate," Jessica Drew, Spider-Woman, agreed. Her red and yellow catsuit was covered in blood and grey matter from ants exploding in every direction, and usually covering her in filth. She stepped over to his bar and pulled a bottle of Lagavulin 21 scotch and poured both of them a drink. "Cheers to victory."

 

"Not so fast," he said, pulling his glass back before she could toast him. "Something occured to me during the battle. And no, I'm not talking about the big ass bugs that just appeared out of nowhere." That just went without saying. "I'm talking about for the last, what, year we've been a team, Clint's been our best shot by far. No one can argue that. So, how have we gone this long with him stuck piloting the jet, while Tasha mans the guns. Or womans the guns. I don't know." He shrugged and took a smooth sip to savor the aged taste. "Man, that's good."

 

"Makes sense," Natasha agreed in a level tone. She walked over and pulled her half-full bottle of Russian vodka from the bar and picked up a shot glass. "But, that's been our deal since the beginning, like you said. He's the only one who can pilot the jet, so that means I have to shoot. I think I'm a pretty good shot."

 

"Yeah, but you're no Hawkeye," he said carefully. To that, she had to agree, to his relief.

 

Clint shrugged expansively at the conversation. "What can you do? Tasha's right. I'm the only certified SHIELD pilot on the team, and SHIELD doesn't have any pilots to spare. Especially since there's a crisis every other day." Natasha offered him a shot glass full of vodka, which he took.

 

"Who said we had to use a SHIELD pilot?" Bruce inquired. "Makes more sense for us to hire a civilian pilot of our own and keep him on our payroll. Tony, don't you know someone from the Air Force?"

 

He nodded. "Yeah, my best friend, Rhodey." He gave Bruce's idea some thought. It was risky, that much was immediately certain. They were put into some of the most dangerous situations in the world; their good days were easily on par with the most dangerous Air Force operation. He didn't feel comfortable with putting his friend in that kind of danger, but it wasn't up to him. "Let me give him a call and talk it over with him." With that settled, he turned to Clint and Natasha. "Don't take this the wrong way."

 

"It's fine," she intoned. "I'd rather be out there with you guys than stuck in the jet, anyway. Same with Clint, right?"

 

He nodded silently.

 

"That's that, then," Steve Rogers, Captain America, said. "Regardless of what Colonel Rhodes says, I'll talk to Nick about it tomorrow at our briefing."

 

Tony nodded and walked out to the balcony to make the call.

 

"Well, if that's all, I do believe there's a hot bath in my immediate future," Jessica announced. She made a pit stop at the bar to pull out a bottle of red wine and a wine glass. "Tata, lads."

 

"Want some company?" Clint called out after her vanishing form. She laughed as she entered the elevator.

 

Steve could only shake his head, then noticed the glare Natasha was giving Clint. He knew that Clint and Jessica had been partners for a few years, ever since he himself joined SHIELD a few months after being found in the ice. Fury made Natasha partner up with him so she could show him the ropes of the organization and help him assimilate himself more quickly into modern society. He knew how close those two were. Even though he didn't feel as bad about breaking them up as he did then, a ping of guilt still rose in his chest every so often.

 

"A shower does sound nice," Pietro said as he stood. That was all he said before he walked toward the elevator. Wanda got up also and followed him out.

 

"Do those two bathe together, too?" Clint asked, snickering.

 

Steve chuckled, despite the creepy insinuations, and allowed his gaze to linger on Wanda's vanishing figure. He watched her until she disappeared inside the elevator. He sighed tiredly and turned back around, only to find his remaining friends all grinning at him. "What?" he asked nervously.

 

"Oh, nothing," Bruce dismissed, tone not betraying an iota of his amusement.

 

"I know Wanda's got a nice ass and all, but you could have at least _tried_ to be subtle about it," Clint chided. His and Natasha's smirks increased a fraction.

 

Thor's godly grinned beamed more brightly than the midday sun. "Indeed, my friend. Your gaze followed our fair witch more intensely than the watchmen of Asgard." He leaned toward him, a knowing eyebrow raised. "Mayhap you hold a bit of affection for her?"

 

"I..." Steve really hated how perceptive they were when it came to his love life. What could he say? He was caught redhanded staring at his friend, like some lecherous old pervert. He didn't even know why. Wanda was a dear friend of his, and was young enough to be his granddaughter, technically.

 

Peggy Carter, his old flame from WWII, died a few months ago. And with her died any hope in his mind of finding love. At first, he thought that her great-niece, Sharon, was the one. Natasha even recommended her. It seemed that they were destined to be together. Tony and Clint teamed up to put the kibosh on that in a hurry. They said it was creepy for him to be dating his ex's family member, especially when she was taking Peggy's deterioation at the hands of Alzheimers so hard. Tony also accused him of trying to have his relationship with Peggy vicariously through Sharon. After a while of thinking on it, he realized that they were right and gave that up.

 

After that, he outright refused to – as Tony put it – hit the club scene and 'hook up' with one of the loose, seedy girls that inhabited those nightclubs. It just wasn't for him. They didn't understand, no matter how many times he explained that. They even suggested that he just talk to a random woman and have sex with her! They called it a one night stand. Tony very quickly rejected that idea once Steve went to go talk to Pepper Potts, his girlfriend and a random woman.

 

Steve smirked at the profanity laden threats Tony laid into him. Few of which he would have been able to actually carry out.

 

Speaking of Tony, "Hello? Earth of Capsicle."

 

He looked up and saw the others, including Tony, all staring at him. He cleared his throat and gave him his attention. "Sorry."

 

"Well, like I was telling the others, Rhodey can't do it. But, he does know just the person for us. He said they'll be on the first flight out of Boston tomorrow morning."

 

To that, he nodded once. "Great. I'll let Nick know in the morning." He got up and stretch out his tired body. A lot of the wounds he suffered in Houston were already healed. The ones that weren't were well on their way. It was one of the many benefits of the supersoldier serum.

 

He smiled to himself as he walked inside the elevator and pressed the button for his floor. The doors almost closed, but reopened when Thor just barely made it in time. "My apologies, my friend, but I must call Jane. It has been almost two days since we have last spoken."

 

There was an urgency in his voice that made him smile. "No problem." He wouldn't admit it out loud, but he was envious of Thor's relationship with Dr. Jane Foster. He didn't know the woman personally, but he knew of her from her SHIELD file, and Thor spoke of her enough that he practically did know her. And when he was speaking of her, it was like he was a different person. He spoke more wistfully, almost sheepishly. He had a glint in his eye when she was on his mind.

 

That very same glint Bucky teased him about having whenever he spoke about Peggy. It was love. Something that then was an unreachable dream to him.

 

Speaking of Bucky, he should have gone to see how he was doing. It had been three years since he and Natasha helped free Bucky from the Red Room's control, but he still wasn't the same. He was closer now than he was then, but he was forever different. They needed each other now more than ever, since there were only four of them left from the original Howling Commandos. _Think I'll call him up and see if he wants to get some drinks later on._

  
  


"Steve?"

  
  


Once again, he was too deep in his own head to hear someone else speaking. Which was an impressive feat, considering Thor's bombastic voice. "Sorry, Thor. Just in my own head again."

  
  


"'Tis a dangerous place to be alone, my friend. An ear for what vexes you? T'would be best to throw your doubts and troubles 'pon another. Many hands make the load lighter to bear, after all."

  
  


He sighed. He didn't want to trouble Thor with his own problems, but he did offer and the god was wiser than he let on. Besides, he could tell that he wasn't going to let it go until they spoke about it, so he relented with a sigh. "I'll never find the right person for me, because she's buried in a cemetery." From the way he had his lips pressed into a thin line, he could tell he disagreed. Not that Steve was in any mood for a debate; his mind wasn't going to be changed.

  
  


"Steve, I will not pretend to understand what you are going through with your lost lover," he started. "However, are there not two paths to every destination? As in, when one is closed off to travel, is there not yet another that you can take to arrive to your desired place, happiness?"

  
  


Steve breathed out a chuckle. It was very easy to forget that Thor was thousands of years old and thus, had a very different outlook on world problems than everyone else.

  
  


"Moreover," he continued, "you claim you will never find true love. But, I ask you this: how can you find what you do not seek? You do not seek because you feel that your only path to the happiness you deserve has perished. Yet, verily I speak, though it may cause you a great deal of pain, you must abandon this path and tread 'pon another. Is that not what Peggy Carter did?"

  
  


He was right. That did hurt. While he was certain that Peggy mourned his 'death' as much as he did hers, she eventually moved on with her life. She got married, had kids, and had a long, fulfilled life. It was what she deserved, not waiting on him. He couldn't have even dreamed of expecting something like that from her.

  
  


But, at the same time, she was his best girl. He couldn't just abandon her like that; not just a few months after she died.

  
  


"I know my words sting, Steve," he said quietly, as if reading his mind, "but, none can claim that words spoken in truth are soothing. Continue this, and you will live a cold life, clinging to a long distant past and yearning for a future that is now impossible to obtain. That is no life to live, and I refuse to see my friend live it."

  
  


Steve really hated to admit it, those words hurt worse than the previous ones. Every word he spoke cut him deeply, and sank down into his very essence. He knew that it wasn't his intention, but they hurt. Every word hurt him to the bone. Then, like Thor said, the truth was supposed to hurt, because that was what a person needed to hear to get them to knock off their boneheaded behavior.

  
  


It was what he needed to hear. Bucky would have told him the exact same thing. Same for Howard Stark, Peggy, the Commandos, all of them. All the faces from his past life would have told him the same; just not as eloquently.

  
  


He had already accepted the Avengers as his new family, insanely dangerous occupation and silly antics and all. Bucky was back with him, as was Nick Fury, so it wasn't like he was completely cut off from his past life. It was high time for him to finally let Peggy go and find someone else. He owed it to her to be happy. It was what she would have wanted.

  
  


The elevator finally reached his floor and dinged as the doors opened. He suspected that Jarvis slowed the car down so he and Thor could speak uninterrupted. He allowed himself another smile and clapped his friend on the shoulder. "Thanks, Thor. I needed to hear that."

  
  


"You are more than welcome, my friend. What purpose does wisdom have if not to be shared with others?"

  
  


He smiled again and walked onto the floor he shared with Tony, Clint, and Jessica. He walked inside his penthouse and flopped down on the sofa. It was furnished remarkably similarly to the apartment he and Bucky shared when they were younger, only much better. A lot of the furniture was old-fashioned, as was the wallpaper covering the walls. The floors were covered in either black carpeting or hardwood floors. There was a large panoramic window that overlooked the New York skyline, which was breathtaking at night. The only things that wouldn't have been found in his old apartment were the two fifty inch HD flatscreen televisions in his bedroom and living room.

  
  


Not that he was complaining.

  
  


On the coffee table in front of him, there was a black and white photo of him, Bucky, Howard, and Peggy. All were smiling brightly after another successful raid of a Hydra base. He picked it up and sat back. "Well. About time, right guys?"

  
  


* * *

 

**Location Unknown**

  
  


Not everyone was pleased with the giant insect swarm that menaced Houston earlier that afternoon. Somewhere secluded from the rest of the world, their senders contemplated their next move.

  
  


"I told you sending those damned bugs was a waste of time!" a montrous behemoth said in a deep, gravely voice. "If we're gonna strike the Avengers, we need to strike where it hurts. Hard. You should've sent me."

  
  


One of the ones he was speaking to, a woman, turned to him and regarded him dismissively. "Piteous fool. You were defeated by _your_ adversary himself alone. What hope would you have against he _and_ his allies?"

  
  


A man interposed himself between the two. "It doesn't really matter whether the test run was a success. It served it's purpose well enough. Tomorrow, we will deliver them our first message, and they will have to know that their time has grown short."

 

 


	2. The Message

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fury doesn't like ideas, a dragon attacks, and who is that weird guy with the rings?

_**The Message** _

 

**SHIELD Helicarrier**

 

**7:45 AM**

 

It was bright and early Friday morning, much to Tony's chagrin, when the Avengers met with Nick Fury within the SHIELD helicarrier for their debriefing. Director Fury stated right at the outset that he had a group of scientists working hard to determine how the insects came to be so large, and that he should know something within a few days.

 

With that and the subsequent important business out of the way, Steve went ahead and informed him of their plan to bring in an Air Force pilot and pay him to fly them to and from their missions so Clint could be free to man the guns or join the others within the battle proper.

 

Fury, to the suprise of no one, didn't like it. "What do you mean new pilot, Rogers?"

 

"Well, sir," Steve started, "we felt that it makes no sense for Clint to be piloting when he's our best shot and should be manning the jet's guns."

 

"Also, sir, having a pilot seperate from the team means we can have a quick extraction in case things get pear shaped," Jessica added. Steve nodded a silent thanks for the assist.

 

Fury sighed heavily. _I knew I should have just called in Xavier's team,_ he thought morosely. "I see. And while I can see your logic, we don't have any pilots to spare. I'm sorry, but—"

 

"Aha, but we've already thought of that," Tony cut in, as only he could. "Hawkguy already pointed that out, but Bruce had the utterly brilliant idea to bring in a civilian pilot. I'll be paying him, obviously." He smirked, thinking he had outsmarted Fury. That smirk vanished when his eyes met Fury's utterly shocked expression.

 

"You... actually think bringing in a civilian into some of the most dangerous situations in the world is a good idea?" He was peering directly into Bruce's eyes, his voice scarily calm.

 

The doctor, despite having been in contact with Fury for many years, still withered like a dead daffodil whenever their gazes met. "I... i-it was just an idea I threw out. I didn't think it would gain this much traction."

 

"If it's makes you feel any better, sir," Clint offered, "the pilot we're bringing in is from the Air Force. So, yeah."

 

"That actually makes this a worse idea." Fury sighed. "Let me ask you something, since you all seem to think this idea is just swell. What if something goes wrong? What if, god forbid, this pilot of yours is killed in the line of duty? Since he's an Air Force pilot, there will be repercussions you will have to face. The media swarm will have to be dealt with. Public opinion. Are you prepared to handle all of that?" He looked each of them in the eye. As he suspected, no one could say anything. "Didn't think so. Well, good luck."

 

At that, Pietro raised his eyebrows. "What? You're just letting us do this, even after all you said?"

 

"Of course I am, Mr. Maximoff. I am officially washing my hands of this entire thing. If this blows up in your faces, SHIELD is in no way, shape, or form responsible or accountable. This is on your heads and yours alone. Besides, it's not like it actually matters what I say, anyway. Hell, I don't know why we even have these meetings. It's not like you listen to what I say; and what little you do hear, you conveniently forget."

 

"Yeah, right," Tony scoffed.

 

"Oh? Don't believe me? Well, remember the time back in October when I told you _not_ to let wanted terrorists onto the team?" He received nothing but begrudging murmurs. "I do. I also remember seeing those two," he jabbed a thumb at the mutant twins at the end of the conference table, "showing up to briefing _the very next day."_ He could sense Wanda getting ready to retort, so he silenced her preemptively with a raised hand. "Yeah, yeah, I know. You two have more than earned your spots on the team. Point still stands. My hands are clean of this whole thing."

 

With that, he walked out.

 

He was, if they were absolutely forced to admit it, right. No amount of good press was going to make this go away if something went wrong. With this team, things went wrong more often than they went right.

 

"Am I the only one who thinks this might be a bad idea?" Clint asked as they strapped into the quinjet and prepared for takeoff.

 

"Well, no. But, when has that ever stopped us?" Jessica asked, flashing a cheeky grin that earned a few groans. "Oh, come on, lads. We're not just picking some random bloke off the street. We're talking about a highly trained pilot from the Air Force, yeah? He's been in some pear shaped shite in his time, yeah? I've no worries." She shrugged.

 

Steve sighed heavily, though not just because he was weighing the consequences and didn't like what he was coming up with. Hearing Jessica speak with that alluring accent of hers reminded him too much of Peggy. He had resolved in his heart to do his best to move on, but it was a lot harder than he thought. Which was saying a lot.

 

He sighed and leaned his head against the wall of the jet. He couldn't even close his eyes for a second without thinking of her. Why couldn't he just stop thinking of her, even for a few lousy seconds?!

 

"Zounds! A dragon!"

 

Everyone jolted to attention at hearing Thor's exclamation. He looked out of the nearest window. Surely, there wasn't an actual dragon outside. Sure enough, circling one of the buildings was a massive, green dragon. With wings, fire breath, and everything else a dragon usually came with.

 

He continued to watch it, and wondered what else he'd see in his lifetime, until he heard the back hatch open. Tony, Thor, and Jessica with Wanda in tow all jumped out and flew over to confront it.

 

"Clint," he barked, "stop street side and drop Pietro and me off. Then, swing back around over the thing so Bruce can jump out. Then, give the bastard everything you got."

 

"Got it, Cap." The quinjet dipped downward at a startling speed, only to slow down into a brief however so Steve and Pietro could leap out.

 

"Natasha, call Fury and tell him to send as many fighter jets as he can spare. Pietro, we're on crowd control. Bruce—"

 

_=I know, Cap. Code Green,=_ Bruce chirped in his comm.

 

Up above, the skies darkened menacingly as Tony peppered the beast's hide with repulsors and missiles. The assault only garnered minimally consequential results. Lightning lit up the sky and scorched its back, which only managed to do slighly more damage. _=This is a Makluan dragon,=_ Thor informed them. _=They are an alien race from many lightyears away. I have not seen one in many ages.=_

 

_=Alien, huh?=_ Tony sighed. _=Any chance of another invasion?=_

 

_=Nay, I do no believe so. If so, there would have been many more of them. I believe this to be an isolated incident.=_

 

If that was true, then why would it have come here?

 

Wanda landed safely on a building across the street and fired a massive hex bolt, which struck its hind legs. The legs lost their grip on the building it was perched on, causing it to fall to the streets below. Those directly under it would have been crushed, if not for Pietro running in and getting them all out to safety with plenty of time to spare.

 

It tried to get up, but an angry green blur smashed into its jaw, driving its entire head through the pavement. The ground look like an earthquake, but the buildings all held fast.

 

"HULK SMASH!" Hulk's large fists slammed down on its head, driving it further into the pavement. The pavement cracked and broke apart for several dozen yards, but the dragon remained conscious.

 

_=Where the hell did this thing come from?!=_ Pietro shouted as he dodged its whipped tail before it smashed through a building.

 

_=No clue, Speedy.=_ He circled around to fire a set of missiles in its face, but had to take evasive measures to dodge the massive fireball that erupted from its maw. _=Gah! Damned overgrown gekko.=_

 

Jessica weaved around its massive, razor sharp claws and gave it two eyefuls of bio-electrictity.

 

It roared out in pain, giving Hulk a chance to leap onto its head and slam his fists repeatedly into its face. Green blood poured out from its facial wounds. A massive green hand reached up and swatted Hulk away. He would have crashed through a building full of people, but Wanda managed to catch him in her telekinesis and set him down safely.

 

She kept up with her hex bolts, even through in a few streams of black chaos fire for extra damage. She and Jessica did little more damage than Tony and Thor managed. _=Where the hell is SHIELD you need them?!=_

 

_=They're scrambling some jets, but there's something wrong with their system. Looks like it's just us,=_ Natasha answered calmly.

 

_=Great. Just lovel—Bloody hell!=_ she responded before being cut by suddnely having to duck its massive tail.

 

Meanwhile, on the street below, Pietro and Steve did their best to direct the terrified New Yorkers to safety away from the battle. Thanks to the former's vast speed and the latter's calming authority, they managed to get the majority out of harm's way. Except for one, a man in a dark green cloak. His face was covered by a large hood, but it was obvious that he was watching the battle with great interest.

 

Something about his demeanor made Steve feel uneasy, even at a distance. He started to walk over to him to tell him to leave, but something made him change his mind.

 

"Enough of this shit," Tony gritted out. He slipped under a stream of fire and fired his laser through its softer underbelly. The beast's roar echoed through the city as its inards spilled out all over the street.

 

With ease, Thor hoisted it up by its tail and carried it into the air. "Your time has come to an end, beast!" He raised his hammer, drawing a massive lightning bolt from the pitch black storm clouds above them. It passed harmlessly through him and into the dragon.

 

It roared out one last time, limbs flailing spasmodically before going completely limp. Thor let it fall to the ground, where it landed with a thud.

 

A tense beat ticked by at a snail's pace. It didn't move. "Hooray, we won!" Tony cheered as he and the others who were airborn landed beside Steve and Pietro. "Drinks on me, guys."

 

_=It's not even nine o'clock, Tony,=_ Natasha chided lightly from the quinjet.

 

"Hey, it's noon somewhere," he retorted defensively.

 

Before she could reply, the Hulk slammed into the pavement nearby. He sniffed and growled at the dead dragon. "Big lizard dead?" he asked, as only he could.

 

"Seems that way, big guy," Tony answered. "Time for—"

 

_=Look out!=_

 

Natasha's warning came too late. The beast, seemingly already healed from its injuries, shot to its feet and reared its head back. Its mouth opened, and they could see the burgeoning stream of fire building up in its throat.

 

"Alright, that's enough, Fin," spoke the cloaked man Steve noticed earlier. "I think they got the message." He raised his hand and snapped his fingers. In an instant, the dragon – apparently named Fin – vanished in a burst of green light.

 

His right hand raised casually. They could see five ornate rings, one on each finger. "But, in case you're too dense to understand, here." The ring on his index finger glowed, and the Avengers were subjected to a deafening sonic blast. Windows for over a block shattered, as well as the ones on the Quinjet. They fell in a heap, screaming in pain and clutching their heads.

 

Clint was partially deaf and had to wear a hearing aid in each ear to hear properly. While the sonic blast caused him a sharp amount of pain intially, all he had to do was switch his hearing aids off. Natasha was on the floor, writhing in pain. He moved over her and grabbed hold of the gun controls. "Eat this, bastard." He opened fire on the cloaked man.

 

A sphere of pure darkness formed around him, deflecting the bullets away harmlessly. The sphere then morphed into a thin blade and slashed one of the wings of the quinjet.

 

It spiraled out of control and crashed into the street several yards away from the others.

 

The high pitched sonic attack was painful, to say the least. Even still, the Hulk was the first to barely struggle to his feet. The attack, combined with being unable to hear, only made him angrier. He roared and lunged for the cloaked man. A blue beam shot out from one of his rings and trapped Hulk in a solid block of ice.

 

Steve screamed out, both in pain and frustration. He saw the guy standing there suspicously and did nothing to stop him. He gritted his teeth and wobbly rose to his feet. He had fought Nazis, Hydra, gods, and aliens. He was going to be damned if he went down to some loon with fancy rings!

 

"Jarvis! Audio blockers!" Tony roared. The suit complied, and he let out a relieved sigh. Only to realize that he couldn't hear it. He growled angrily and stood tall, and fired his repulsors at full power.

 

The man's ring glowed again, and Tony's arms jerked upward on their own accord, causing the rays to fire harmlessly into the sky. "What the hell?" he demanded. His boots fired up, propelling him forward at just shy of the sound barrier. Again, the same irresistable force yanked him downward and crashing into the ground. His jetboots were still firing, so he ended up digging a near fifty foot trench at near the speed of sound before finally coming to a halt at the man's feet.

 

Finally, after an excrutiating fifteen seconds, the man shut the sonic blast off. Steve tossed his shield as hard as he could, which wasn't much, but it traveled five feet before veering off and sailing down the street.

 

The man sneered and said something, but they couldn't hear it. A few more seconds, and he was gone, vanished in the same burst of green light as the dragon.

 

The Avengers, those few that were still conscious, shared the same look of anger and surprise. They had been decimated by one person, and he never even moved an inch.

 


	3. Voice From The Past

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Carol Danvers makes a career change, Tony remembers an old friend, and Wanda and Thor go magic hunting

_**Voice From The Past** _

 

**Manhattan, New York**

 

**12:45 PM**

 

Manhattan was at the tail end of pandemonium. Traffic had been backed up for blocks for the last three, almost four, hours. If that wasn't bad enough, it was well over 90ºF. The sidewalks had been jam packed with screaming people, all stampeding in the same direction; that had calmed down in the last few hours, though. Police were standing in the middle of the intersections, attempting to divert traffic away from downtown near Stark Tower.

 

Exactly where Air Force pilot Capt. Carol Danvers was heading.

 

She sighed and slammed her head into the headrest of the taxi cab she had been sitting in for three hours. “Why? Why did the city have to lose its shit _today_ of all days?” The night before, she had been at home in Boston visiting her parents when she received a call from her good friend, Col. James Rhodes. He told her that the Avengers needed an ace pilot and she was the first person he thought of. While she didn't let it show, she was blushing like a giddy school girl.

 

He told her to get her butt on the first thing smoking to New York that next morning and meet them. So, there she was, wasting away inside a taxi cab that was going about two inches an hour in sweltering June heat. To make matters worse, it didn't' look like the traffic was going to clear up any time soon.

 

_Great start to my new career. Not!_

 

To make matters even worse – which shouldn't have been possible, but it was – the radio had been playing the same teenie bop pop crap that passed for music. _God, just kill me now._ It had been that way for hours and it was giving her a serious migraine. She could have just asked the cabbie to change the station, but she was frustrated and thinking wasn't her strongest ability when she was flustered. She sighed and fumbled around in her purse until she found her iPod. Just when she was about to stick her earbuds in, a news bulletin started.

 

“ _We interrupt this program to bring you an update on the monster attack that took place just a few hours ago...”_

 

That seemed pertinent to her interests, so she sat up and paid attention.

 

“ _Sources and eye witness accounts both indicate that a dragon, at least three stories tall, appeared at 8:45 this morning two blocks from Stark Tower. It was quickly subdued by the Avengers. Thanks to their efforts, property damage was kept to a minimum, and there was no loss of life. As of this moment, there are no leads as to the origins of the mysterious reptile, or if there are more where it came from. We will keep you posted as soon as more information is available. Until then, we return you to your regularly scheduled programming.”_

 

Carol sat back and took in a deep breath. That explained why traffic was so bad, and why people were running for their lives earlier. “Man, shit just got real,” she muttered.

 

Nothing really superhuman happened in Boston – unless one counted the superhuman talent and good looks of one Tom Brady – or in any of the other places she had been. She was used to dealing with soldiers with guns, jets, and missiles; she was not used to gods, aliens, and definitely not dragons. It was a whole new level of weird, but not one she was so sure she was willing to walk away from. She was never one to walk away from a challenge, and this was without a doubt the most challenging thing she had ever encountered.

 

Instead of scaring her, like it should have, it only made her more excited to get started. If there was one thing she loved, it was taking challenges head on and making them submit. Whether it was exceeding her father's lofty expectations, or becoming the youngest Air Force captain in recent history, she always rose up and met them head on.

 

This was going to be no different. She definitely wasn't trained for monsters and magic and whatever else the Avengers got themselves involved in, but why should that have stopped her? If two normal people like Black Widow and Hawkeye could do it, why not her?

 

That question bounced around in her head as the taxi inched forward a few feet. At that rate, she wasn't going to get to the next block until the next morning, much less Stark Tower. The only other recourse was to walk, which she had been avoiding because walking in four inch heels was a big no-no in her book. “Pop the trunk. I'm walking from here,” she said with a sigh. She pulled her wallet out of her purse and pulled out a pair of twenties to give him.

 

“Sure thing, lady.” He tried to get out and help her, but she held up a hand to stop him in his tracks.

 

“I got it, thanks.” If there was one thing she hated, it was having someone do anything for her. Her two suitcases weren't heavy and she could roll them behind her. The most cumbersome thing she had with her was her pet tabby's cage, and that she could just balance on one of the suitcases. “We'll be there in no time, Chewie.”

 

The orange feline eyed her curiously before snuggling within itself to go back to sleep.

 

One thing became very evident when Carol started walking down the sidewalk toward Stark Tower: men didn't have any problem stopping whatever it was they were doing to watch a woman walk past them. Even if what they were doing was important. Ogling only took a second. She shook her head with disgust. It was one of the drawbacks of being so buxom, no one took her seriously unless they wanted to get in her pants.

 

Even the shiny medals pinned to her jacket didn't get more than a glance before the eyes trailed down to her chest. _Some people, I swear._

 

Despite the constant ogling, Carol found it within herself to be awed by the sheer amount of hero worship around the city. On the buildings, billboards flashed images of the Avengers and Fantastic Four in heroic poses. Most of the time, those images were for some useless product. The people she passed by more often than not had some kind of merchandise on their person. Shirts, shoes, purses, sunglasses, hats, cups, watches – all of which bore either the Avengers logo or that of an individual hero.

 

“Wow, look at all this Avengers stuff, Chewie. You think there'll be things with my face and name on them?” The cat mewled irritably. “Yeah, yeah. Not in this lifetime.”

 

* * *

 

**Stark Tower**

 

Meanwhile, Tony had been holed up in his workshop ever since their encounter with the mysterious man and his pet dragon. Of all the strange things he had seen in his time as a superhero, that one took the cake. Wanda tried to use a spell to restore his hearing. He respectfully declined. Him and magic just did not mix, and while he trusted her to not do anything drastic – like give him an extra head – she still freaked him out. Luckily, he had some ear-drops Reed Richards developed for SHIELD for just this occasion.

 

Wanda and Thor left some time ago to investigate the dragon and its master. He left them to that; they were better equipped to handle that than he was. Dragons didn't exist on Earth, to his knowledge, so there were very few ways it could have ended up in the middle of Manhattan. It shouldn't have been difficult for them to pull a few rabbits out of a hat and find the answer.

 

Which was great, since he knew nothing about magic, sorcery, witchcraft, or any of that nonsense. He admittedly had long stopped caring when Wanda rambled on and on about it. He only listened because she enjoyed talking about it so much. “Hey J, run that audio clip again and cross reference it to known samples from the last year. That voice sounds familiar.”

 

“ _As you wish, sir. Also, I would inform you that Director Fury wishes to speak with you as soon as possible.”_

 

Tony sighed and turned back to his dinged and dented helmet. “Later. Too busy right now.”

 

“ _As you say, sir. Cross reference complete. Zero matches.”_

 

“Damn it. I know that voice from somewhere. Just can't quite remember where.” It was one of those times where the answer was right on the tip of his tongue. He just knew that this was going to kill him until he remembered. “Try five years and reference every available media recording.”

 

As Jarvis complied, Natasha stepped inside. Tony spotted her and smirked to himself. While everyone's hearing was off, their equilibria were thrown out of whack. It was hilarious watching the normally graceful spy stumble and bump into everything. Not that he dared laugh or even give away that he noticed. He was an ass, but he wasn't stupid.

 

“No leads from SHIELD. They're just as clueless as we are,” she announced.

 

“Of course they are. Oh, that reminds me; J, gather the others down here. The suit recorded something interesting. And call Fury, too. He'll want to listen in.”

 

“Thor and Wanda just checked in. They haven't found anything so far. No trace, no tech, nothing but rubble and damage to the buildings to show that they were even there. Which means magic. Powerful magic.”

 

“Fantastic,” he scoffed with a sigh.

 

“It gets better.” If she was being sarcastic, it didn't sound like it. “Wanda scanned the area the man was standing in, and she did detect scant magical energies. I have no idea what that's supposed to mean.” She sighed softly and sat down at one of the few bare tables in the workshop. “I'm still not trained for this shit,” she muttered in a humored tone.

 

“None of us are,” Clint remarked from the doorway. Tony glanced over and found the archer leaning casually against the doorjamb.

 

“Good to see you finally learned how to use a door,” he commented dryly. “Did Pep ban you from using the air vents?”

 

“That was once, Tony.” Clint shook his head and walked inside to sit down beside Natasha. “Jarv said you had something for us?”

 

“Patience, Katniss. Let's wait for the others to get here.”

 

No more than five minutes passed before the entire team was gather within the workshop. “Stark, why am I here and not in my bed taking a nap?” Pietro asked grumpily. He was leaned against the wall, arms folded across his chest. An expectant frown marked his expression.

 

Tony would have assumed that he didn't like having his sleep disturbed, but by that point, he knew better. Before he played the clip, he tapped a touchscreen behind him a few times until a single orange line darted horizontally across the screen. “Fury, you there?”

 

“ _I'm here, Stark,”_ Fury's gruff voice chimed in from the speakers in the workshop's ceiling. _“What did you find?”_

 

“This.” He tapped the screen again. The speakers unleashed the smooth dulcet voice of a middle aged man, likely of Asian decent. Likely Chinese. The English spoken was perfectly fluent, while the tone was as smooth and level as a pour of whiskey from a legendary bartender. _“This was just the opening act of our little show. Just wait until you see what the Masters of Evil have in store. You're days are numbered.”_

 

Silence filled the room as everyone digested and contemplated the harrowing message. The dragon attack was just the opening salvo of their new enemy, these Masters of Evil. Tony hadn't ever heard of the name, but for as hokey as the name sounded, he knew that these guys were to be taken seriously.

 

Everyone else agreed.

 

“Masters of Evil, hm?” Pietro ruminated over the name while tapping his chin. “Sounds ridiculous.”

 

“Wait a minute, now. This bloke handed us our arses by himself,” Jessica reminded him. “I wouldn't take him for granted.”

 

“I'm not,” he replied testily. “I just said it's a ridiculous name.”

 

“I can't believe we actually agree on something,” Clint remarked.

 

“First time you've been right about anything, I imagine,” he replied dryly.

 

“I will admit, though,” Jessica said thoughtfully, “whoever he was, he sounds sexy.”

 

The men rolled their eyes as Natasha nodded in agreement.

 

Tony sighed, growing quiet. The man's voice sounded so familiar. There weren't too many people who could say something so menacing and threatening, and yet have it sound like he was flirting with a Playboy bunny. Tony was one of them, and the other... “Jarvis, where are you on that reference?”

 

“ _63% complete, sir. So far, zero matches.”_

 

As he suspected. “Scratch that and reference all available Chinese media from 2000-2002.”

 

“What are you thinking, Tony?” Steve asked warily.

 

“There was this guy I knew from MIT years ago. Extremely intelligent and just as ambitious. Had a ton of charisma, but was obsessed with finding something to put him on the map. He told me he was on to something huge after he found some wreckage in China. Last I heard, he was on SHIELD's radar for stealing some artifacts of a Chinese museum.”

 

There was no guarantee that the guy who attacked him and the guy Tony was thinking of were one and the same. He could have very well been way off; he had been known to be wrong every once in a blue moon.

 

“ _I think I know who you're talking about, Stark,”_ Fury said before going silent again. They could hear a soft tapping noise from his fingers hitting his keyboard.

 

“Right. I haven't heard from the guy since '05. He kept going on about how he was onto something that was going to change the world. I thought he had invented the cure for cancer or something like that, but then he just vanished.”

 

Tense moments ticked by one after the other as everyone awaited Jarvis' findings with bated breath. Finally, after two excruciating minutes, he finished. _“Cross reference complete. The voice is a 100% match to Zhang Tong.”_

 

Tony's heart dropped into his shoes. “Son of a bitch!”

 

Steve frowned, just as confused as everyone else. “Who's that?”

 

“He goes by Gene Khan now. He is... was a friend of mine.”

 

“So, he's the miserable git with those magic rings, eh?” Jessica pondered. When Tony nodded silently, she raised a pensive eyebrow. “If he was in your circle of friends, I gather he must be well-off.”

 

“You'd have to be to be able to afford a dragon,” Clint noted.

 

“So,” Bruce spoke as he slipped his glasses off to clean them with the fringe of his shirt, “this Gene Khan character and his friends are coming after us. Why? What sort of vendetta could they have against us?”

 

“And, where the hell did he manage to get an actual, real life dragon, and the tech to make those rings?” Natasha followed.

 

“And how did he manage to disappear into thin air like Stark does before a briefing?” Fury added with a smirk in his voice. Tony groaned a few seconds later. “1 PM sharp tomorrow, Avengers. Fury, out.”

 

When Fury's voice vanished from the air, leaving only an empty void, Steve sighed and sunk down into the nearest chair. He had been in the hero game since 2010. Three years in the modern world, plus however long he kept it up in the forties. It never go any easier, and it never got any less stressful. Quite the contrary; it only became harder and more stressful with each passing day.

 

His eyes scanned his team's faces, and beheld nothing by worry and apprehension. Even Tony was silently thinking to himself, face etched with concern. That bothered him the most. When Tony Stark took a circumstance _this_ seriously, it was truly dire. “We've found out all we can for now. No use in stressing ourselves too much until Wanda and Thor come back.”

 

They nodded and filed out one by one. All except him and Tony.

 

“I should have known, Steve,” he said quietly.

 

Steve flinched. That was the first time Tony had ever called him by his first name. Usually, it was some corny nickname or Cap. Another sign at how seriously he was taking this. “About Khan? How could you? You hadn't seen him in almost ten years, you said. Not even you can predict that far into the future.”

 

He sighed. “Yeah, I know that. Those rings... I didn't get a good look at them, but they looked like plain, ordinary rings from what little I saw, if not a little ostentatious. I don't get it.” He sighed again and carded his fingers through his hair. “We were friends. Him, me, Pepper, and Rhodey. He and I would hit up night clubs all over the planet, compete to take home the most women, swap stories the next morning; you know, usual stuff. What happened to him? Why'd he change?”  
  


Why was he doing this now, all of a sudden died before it could pass through his lips. Those were questions that Steve, obviously, didn't have the answer to. “I won't pretend I have all the answers. But, overthinking it won't do anyone any good. Let's at least wait until Wanda and Thor come back before we try and figure anything else out.”

 

A beat passed slowly and silently. Steve knew how stubborn the billionaire genius could be when stumped by an issue. When it came to his personal life, it was nearly impossible to pull him away until he was satisfied he had figured it out.

 

“Fine,” he capitulated. “But, I'm eating schwarma and you can't stop me, Capsicle.”

 

He smiled and shook his head. “Square deal. Food sounds great right now.”

 

* * *

 

**Midtown**

 

Wanda and Thor searched the surrounding two block radius in addition to the immediate area where the attack took place. They hadn't found much; what they did find, they reported immediately.

 

“And nothing still, Milady. Mayhap this man is both a scientist and a sorcerer,” Thor offered as he cleared the last bit of rubble out of the street. With the street finally clear, the traffic could flow normally once again.

 

The crimson clad sorceress shuddered at the thought. Science and magic were more complementary that many cared to admit, but they were still different enough that the average person was more inclined to choose one or the other. A man who mastered one was highly dangerous. Someone who mastered _both_ would be a nightmare. There was no dream that foretold what sort of creations he could conjure forth. “Perhaps,” she uttered, taking care to keep her worry out of her voice. “Or, maybe he's just more careful than most magic users I have encountered. Whatever he is, he's too dangerous to be left alone for any longer.”

 

“Aye. I fear what next happening may befall this world whilst he is free to roam about.” It was then that Wanda just so happened to glance to her right and saw something out of the corner of her eye. Her head whirled around, but found nothing but people walking down the sidewalk. “What have you spied, Scarlet Witch? More trouble afoot?”

 

She blinked in confusion. “No... no. I just thought I saw something. I guess I'm just paranoid.”

 

“Paranoia can spare you life, in times such as this,” he replied sagely. “You can never be too careful, after all.”

 

“Yes,” she said with a soft sigh. “What troubles me is that I don't think this is an isolated incident. Call it a hunch, I suppose.”

 

“As in, we are being haunted by some malevolent force? The man with the rings of vast power, mayhap?” Thor glanced around, his vigilance heightened to levels previously unknown to him. He took account of everyone he could readily see without making himself seem suspicious himself. On any other day, he would have dismissed the people around him as mere passers-by and nothing more. However, on this day, no one was above suspicion. No one except his allies, that was.

 

“Him, and whoever else he might be working with. I hate this! I can't even walk down the street without fearing something might jump out at me,” she lamented with a heavy, weary sigh. She glanced behind her and just caught sight of a woman quickly turning down an alleyway.

 

Her better judgment was screaming that she should go investigate. She didn't. Instead, she turned around and resolved to not let it bother her. People turned down alleyways all the time, for one reason or another. There was nothing suspicious about it.

 

Her resolution lasted all of five seconds before she did an about-face and sprinted toward the alleyway. Her cape flowed majestically behind her until she came to a sudden stop at the mouth of the alley. The woman was walking somewhat briskly, but she should have been able to catch some glimpse of her, since not much time had elapsed.

 

To her absolute confusion, the alley was empty. Nothing but debris and garbage all the way to the dead end. She cursed and pounded her fist against the brick wall behind her. “I was right. Thor, come quick!” There were a dozen explanations, and none of them satisfied her. She _knew_ that she saw a woman turn down this very alleyway, and yet, not a soul was to be found. There weren't any doors she could have entered, the dumpster was empty, and there weren't any other places to hide. Where was she? “I know you're here. Show yourself!”

 

“Milady, what has you vexed so?” Thor inquired, concern evident. A gentle breeze carried him upward to give him a better vantage point. He carefully scanned as far as his eyes would allow him, but found nothing of import. “I see nothing.”

 

Wanda quickly scaled a nearby ladder to the roof to join him. She scanned as far as her own eyes could see, but came to the same result. “A woman entered the alley down below, but disappeared when I arrived. There is nowhere for her to hide up here, so where is she?” She was beginning to grow frustrated. “No matter. My suspicions were confirmed.”

 

She raised a hand, enveloped by crimson magical energies. The energies spread like a mist across the mist, revealing any magical presence or energies at work. Thor's massive aura overlapped her own. Most importantly, the same mystical presence that the dragon from before left behind when it vanished was also revealed. It was fresh, maybe not even a few minutes old.

 

Thor felt it also, but while Wanda felt vindicated that her paranoia was right on, Thor's face became grave. For good reason, as he revealed. “These magics are Asgardian in nature. Of that, I am certain.”

 

Asgardian? Wanda swallowed nervously. That meant that the man was either an Asgardian himself, or allied with one. Neither of those possibilities was good, but one was significantly better than the other. “Now things are even more confusing.” The only Asgardian sorcerer she knew of was Loki, and he was locked up tight in prison, where he belonged. “We have found all we can, I think. Let's head back before we find even more trouble.”

 

“Aye. Let us make haste and report to the others.” With that, he gently wrapped an arm around her waist and carried her away through the air with a spin of his hammer.

 

* * *

 

After they were nothing more than specks on the horizon, the mysterious woman Wanda spotted stepped out of seemingly thin air. A ghost of a smirk crossed her lips. She touched a comm hidden in her ear and spoke in perfect English, without hint of an accent of any kind. “I wasn't spotted, so good work. Though, they know you're involved. We'll have to be more careful moving forward. ...Understood. I'll set up next door and wait for a good opportunity.” Her smirk grew a fraction while she ran along the rooftop toward her target.

 


	4. New Arrival

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Carol arrives, Clint gets fed up, and Steve gets smitten.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To the few people who are actually reading this, sorry for the long wait. I've been busy with work, busy with other stories, busy with other activities, and battling a sudden fit of writer's block. But enough about that, here's a new chapter. Please review and let me know how you like it.

_**New Arrival** _

 

**Outside Stark Tower**

 

It was a long, painful walk. Over thirty minutes long, through the infamously crowded New York sidewalks, while maneuvering two rolling suitcases and a pet cage with an irritable tabby inside, all while the blazing hot sun was beaming down its fury on the hapless ants below. Through it all, Carol endured, in four inch heels. Never had she been cursing a decision more in her entire life. The need to look 'professional, but glamorous' should never, under any circumstances, have taken precedence over comfort.

 

By the time she reached Stark Tower, her feet felt like they were about to detach themselves from her ankles and fight her. Her salvation was near at hand, but she had to take a timeout on the bench that was just the left of the front entrance. “Jesus tap dancing Christ. Never again,” she declared breathlessly.

 

Just as her butt hit the hard, but welcomed stone slab, the traffic moved normally. Carol's jaw hit the ground. Had she waited half an hour more, just thirty measly minutes, she wouldn't have had to walk anywhere. She would have cried, but shedding tears over something so silly was not the Danvers way. So, she cried on the inside. Outwardly, she just buried her head in her hands.

 

“Just once,” she bemoaned to herself, “just once, I would like something to go my way. Is that so wrong?”

 

“Excuse me, Miss?” a woman said to her while tapping her on the shoulder.

 

“It's Captain,” she replied automatically. She looked up and saw a pretty woman with light red hair. She was dressed in a black and gold business suit, with a matching handbag slung over her shoulder. She was instantly recognizable. She was, of course, only the most famous woman on the planet; CEO of Stark Industries, Pepper Potts. “Oh! Um...”

 

Pepper graciously smiled. “I take it you're the pilot Tony asked for.”

 

Pepper Potts, one of the most powerful women in the entire world – and one of the savviest businesswomen – was speaking to her. As if she was on the same level as her. Like Carol Danvers, a masshole from Boston, Massachusetts, was an equal. _Wow._ Carol's starry-eyed gaze penetrated Pepper, peering deeply into her soul for approximately ten seconds before the cold slap from reality came in the form of a nervous cough. “Oh! Ah, yes. Yes, I am.” She stood and almost saluted, but remembered that Pepper was just a civilian. “Captain Carol Danvers, US Air Force.”

 

Pepper nodded appreciatively and shook her hand firmly. “Very impressive. Rhodey spoke very highly of you last night.”

 

To hear that Col. Rhodes spoke so highly of her brought a soft blush to her cheeks. He was only one of the most highly respected officers in the entire Air Force. She even heard that he recommended that she be promoted to Major! “Thanks, Ms. Potts.” Her feet sufficiently rested and the anger of her poor patience forgotten, she stood from the bench. “Well, can't meet the team from out here.”

 

Pepper nodded and gestured to someone on the other side of the door. “Don't worry about your bags. Happy can take them in.”

 

“Happy?” As soon as the word left her mouth, an older man with short black hair – and a receding hairline, but she tried to ignore that – and a sharp black suit stepped out and tried to grab her bags. Only for her to snatch them out of his grasp. “I got it. Thanks.”

 

Happy faltered, but quickly recovered. “Right. I'll bring the car around, Pep.”

 

She nodded absently as she watch Carol struggle to balance Chewie's cage on top of one of her suitcases. “It was very nice meeting you, Capt. Danvers.”

 

Carol was in the middle of an intense power struggle with her pet cat when Pepper's words registered. “Nice meeting you, too, Ms. Potts!”

 

* * *

 

**Meanwhile, inside Stark Tower**

 

The rest of the Avengers were settling down in the living room when Steve and Tony walked in. “Alright, folks,” the inventor said, clapping his hands together. “Capsicle says we need to relax, so let's relax. Who's ordering the food?”

 

“Guess I can order a few pizzas,” Clint offered as he plopped down on the sofa beside his partner, Jessica. Natasha sat down on the other side of him. “What topping do you want, Jess?”

 

She threw her feet up into his lap while she thought about it. “Eh, surprise me.”

 

“Anchovies and pineapples, it is.” He laughed at the disgusted face she gave him. “What about you, Nat?”

 

“You know what I like, Barton,” she answered. Her eyes glanced at Jessica and narrowed.

 

Ignoring Natasha, she inquired of the room at large, “Anyone have any idea when Thor and Wanda will be back?”

 

“Nope,” Natasha answered, still having not taken her eyes off her.

 

Clint glanced at Natasha, then at Jessica, then to Steve, flashing him a slightly annoyed look.

 

Steve could only shrug. He knew that ever since Fury partnered him up with Natasha and Jessica with Clint, the two haven't been the best of friends. Actually, he couldn't even say that they were friendly with one another. There had always been a fair amount of tension between them that he could never quite figure out. Whenever he asked one of them what her problem was with the other, he always got the runaround. To the point that he just stopped asking. Whatever the issue was, it didn't hinder their ability to work with one another, so he let it continue.

 

“Well, there's a surprise,” she replied dismissively. “Any reason why you keep staring? I know I'm fit, but you're starting to get weird.”

 

“Starting to?” Tony commented with a snicker.

 

Natasha silenced his laughter with a glance before returning to her primary mark. “Free country. I can look where I want,” she stated with a casual shrug.

 

“It's bloody rude.”

 

“Never learned manners.”

 

Clint stood suddenly, nearly knocking Jessica to the floor. Without an audible word, but plenty muttered under his breath, he walked out and into the kitchen.

 

Jessica sighed and straightened out, crossing one leg over the other. “See what you've done? Your jealousy continues to bore me rigid.”

 

“Jealousy? I'm just sitting here wondering why you're using another human being as a footstool.”

 

Jessica smirked rather cryptically. “I use him for quite a bit more than that.”

 

Steve just noticed Natasha flinch. He barely repressed a sigh. Back-and-forths like this happened twice, maybe three times a week. He would have said he was getting tired of it, but that just went without saying. He didn't like it when any of his friends argued, but especially arguments like this. Two women arguing over a man just wasn't a good look for either of them. Then again, he knew that what was happening between Natasha and Clint wasn't romantic or sexual. He had no idea what the nature of Clint's relationship with Jessica was behind closed doors, but it sounded like it was rather... intimate.

 

Not that it was any of his business. As long as they all remained professional, he didn't mind who did what with who and how.

 

“I don't know why you two keep fighting over Barton,” Pietro said in a bored tone. “He's clearly not interested in either of you.”

 

“I would disagree,” Jessica retorted.

 

“Of course you would.” He sighed and snatched the remote from the table in the blink of an eye. “You do realize that sex doesn't equate romantic attraction, right?”

 

Natasha's teeth were visibly grinding together.

 

“I never said we were shagging, now did I?” she countered. She leaned forward and looked him over. “Now, if _you'd_ like to have a go...”

 

“I'd rather bathe in liquid nitrogen,” he replied dryly.

 

Her smirk grew into a full-blown grin. “Liar. Come on. I promise not to tell Wanda.”

 

“бродяга,” Natasha remarked rather loudly, followed by a bored sigh.

 

_{Tramp.}_

 

Steve sighed to himself. On second thought, maybe he should have done something about this tension before it got too serious. Last thing he wanted was for anyone's feelings to get hurt because someone said the wrong thing to one-up someone else.

 

“Well, this has all been enlightening,” Bruce said patiently, “but, can we talk about something else?”

 

“Bruce is right,” Tony agreed. “Let's talk about something else. Me, specifically.”

 

Steve saw Natasha relax once Clint's business was out of the conversation, so he did as well. With the tension gone and forgotten – for the time being, anyway – he settled back into his recliner and watch his team banter and chat amicably among themselves. It was times like this that made him glad that the past was the past. These people, with their kooky behavior, weird quirks, sketchy pasts, and huge egos were his new family. And he was okay with that. He was okay with the Howling Commandos, Peggy, Howard, and all the others being left in his past. He was okay with having moved on from them to a new family.

 

Until he wasn't. Some days, he longed for what couldn't be any more. Those days were becoming more and more frequent. The exact opposite of what was supposed to be happening. The more he came to love his new team, the more he secretly yearned for his old team, his old friends, and Peggy.

 

The sound of Thor's boots hitting the balcony brought him back from his deep ruminations. He sat up and watched him and Wanda stride in purposefully, their faces both carrying the same ominously troubled expression. “My friends, we bring troubling news.”

 

“You found something?” He glanced at Tony and could tell he was thinking the same.

 

“Aye. While we were searching the streets, Wanda noted that she detected traces of magic around the area where the Makluan beast appeared and vanished, as well as where the cloaked man we faced was standing.”

 

Steve tilted his head down in thought. He already admitted freely that this magical business went straight over his head. Even the weapons Hydra made with the Tesseract during the war were more straightforward than the stuff Wanda enjoyed reading up on and utilizing.

 

It was bad enough that he had to deal with monsters, gods, and people in super suits. Now, even the fellas he could normally just punch in the face and call it a day could just wave their hands and blow up a city with parlor tricks!

 

Bruce shook his head. “And you think that Khan's powers come from magic?”

 

Wanda quirked an eyebrow as she sat down next to her brother. “Khan? Who's that?”

 

“The name of the guy who attacked us,” Tony explained. “Gene Khan.”

 

“I see.” She noted how his expression changed subtly when he said the name, but said nothing about it. “I'm not sure, Bruce. It's difficult to say without studying them more closely. When we were heading back, I saw a woman following us. She headed into an alley that ended in a dead end, but when I went to check seconds later, she was gone. Nowhere to be seen.”

 

Clint returned in time to hear the latter half of Wanda's account, and sat down on the arm rest next to Jessica. “What? Was she a ghost or something?” he joked with a laugh.

 

“This is no jesting matter, friend archer,” Thor said, voiced threaded with graveness. “I sensed Asgardian magic around where the woman vanished. The very same Asgardian magic that I felt around where this Gene Khan was situated.”

 

Clint stopped laughing and drew within him, making himself smaller. “Is it—” He couldn't even get the name out before succumbing to a fierce shudder. Jessica squeezed his hand between hers, which seemed to calm him down some.

 

“Last I checked, my brother is still powerless and still imprisoned, surrounded by armed guards at all times. That was last week, and Heimdall has told me nothing of even an attempt at escape. But, I shall away at nightfall to make certain.”

 

Hearing that brought Clint relief. The very last thing he, or any of them, wanted was to see that bastard again, much less fight him again. “If not him, then who?”

 

“Mayhap this Gene Khan is an Asgardian I have not met, or more likely, in league with one. As to who, I am uncertain. There are several sorcerers in Asgard besides Loki. To be truthful, we all use magic of some kind. For example, the lightning I summon is many leagues more powerful than Midgard's natural lightning. It could very well be one of the dozens who actually specialize in spells.

 

Tony nodded absently. “Okay, so we have not only a guy with possibly magical rings, but also yet another Asgardian on the loose. I'm seriously considering getting you guys some locks for that bridge of yours, Point Break,” he said, smirking, but only half-joking.

 

“Did you get a good look at her, Wanda?” Pietro asked. “I can go out and find her within the hour if I can get a good description of her.”

 

“That's a good idea,” Steve agreed.

 

“Sorry,” she replied with a slow shake of her head. “I only caught a brief glimpse of her. All I know is that she has blonde hair, and there are thousands of those walking around New York.”

 

Pietro hummed to himself. “That does indeed pose a problem.”

 

“It's like finding a needle in a haystack,” Jessica posited. “We just need a magnet.”

 

“I have one of those. J, patch into the Stark Tactical Imaging Satellite and pull up the imagery of the block where Thor and Wanda were walking.”

 

“ _The images you requested, sir,”_ Jarvis replied seconds later. Holographic images popped up in the center of the room. Dozens of them. Tony stood from his seat on one of the sofas and began sifting through them. The ones that were of no use were swiped away and vanished into the ether. Finally, he came across one of a blonde woman in dark sunglasses, black jeans and boots, and a red t-shirt appeared. He flipped through a few more and enlarged the image with the best view of her face. “And here's your stalker. Huh. Not bad. She's no Pepper; but then, who is?” He turned to see if anyone knew her, only to find Natasha glaring at the image. “Everything cool, Red?”

 

She looked both disappointed and incensed, which was not a comforting combination. They were both emotions that she never showed, under any circumstances.

 

“Tasha,” Clint said softly, just barely louder than a whisper.

 

Her emerald eyes snapped toward him, catching his calming gaze. Slowly, her face returned to its usual neutral setting. “I'm fine,” she reassured simply, but curtly.

 

He nodded, knowing she wasn't, but also knowing she wasn't going to talk about it until she was ready.

 

“ _Sirs and madams, I would inform you that Capt. Carol Danvers is on her way up as I speak.”_

 

Everyone looked around, each just as confused at the next person. “Do we know a Carol Danvers?” Bruce wondered to no one in particular.

 

Tony didn't take his eyes off the image as he answered. “Not that I know of. One of yours, Capsicle? You're a captain, too, right?”

 

“Yeah, but I've never heard of her.” The elevator dinged and opened. A tall drink of water walked inside in the form of a blonde woman with stunning blue eyes and an even more stunning figure. Wavy blonde hair bounced with each step. She, however, seemed extremely flustered by something. Possibly the cat inside the pet cage that was precariously balanced on one of her two suitcases.

 

_Wow. She's... she's beautiful,_ he thought to himself. His eyes lingered on her, slowly drifting downward until they came to a rest on the shiny medals on her jacket. He smiled; she was an Air Force captain. He had heard that women were allowed in the military. He was glad; he had long felt that women were just as capable of serving their country as the fellas were.

 

_I wonder if she's rationed. Wait, come on, Steve! You don't even know the girl!_

 

His thoughts were interrupted by Clint jabbing his elbow into his ribs. “You're staring,” he whispered, much to Steve's chagrin and embarrassment.

 

He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly and blushed. “I apologize, ma'am. You're the new pilot, right?”

 

She had somehow grown even more flustered than she was when she walked in. “That's right. Col. Rhodes said you needed someone to play chauffeur, and I'm your girl. Capt. Carol Danvers. 325th, US Air Force.” She saluted sharply.

 

From what he heard from Tony, Col. Rhodes knew what he was talking about. Steve saluted back out of instinct. “Well, Captain, I can't say that I disagree with his recommendation. You look very capable. It's a pleasure to meet you, Captain Danvers.”

 

“Likewise, Captain Rogers,” she said with a bright smile that turned into a small wince.

 

“Oh, would you like to have a seat?” He gestured toward his chair. She nodded gratefully and strode over to sit down. He immediately noticed how confident she was when walked, and couldn't help but find it attractive.

 

“Thanks. I've been on my feet for thirty minutes in the blazing heat. My dogs are singing right now.” She took off her heels and rubbed one of her feet.

 

“Nice to meet you, Cap,” Clint said with a respectful nod. “I'm Clint, and this is Natasha and Jessica. That's Bruce over there and next to him is Thor. Over there is Wanda and her twin brother, Pietro. And last, but certainly not least is—”

 

“Cheeseburger!” Tony exclaimed when he finally turned around and beheld the new arrival. “Long time no see.”

 

“Not long enough, Mr. Stark,” Carol muttered, her improved mood immediately soured.

 

“Nonsense. I knew you couldn't resist me. Sorry, but you missed the boat. I'm taken now.”

 

“Darn. Whatever will I do now with all this unrequited love?” She shook her head irritably.

 

“I take it you two know each other,” Steve said, unable to hide the disappointment in his voice. Of course Tony knew Carol. She was a beautiful woman – very beautiful – and if there was one thing Tony loved more than anything once upon a time, it was beautiful women. There was no point in even bothering.

 

“Sure do. I met her years ago, back when she was just Honey Bear's little fangirl.” Tony chuckled, as if remembering a fond memory. “You should have seen her, following him around like a lost puppy, drinking in his every word like gospel. You'd think Rhodey was the Messiah looking at her starry-eyed gaze.”

 

Carol's jaw was jutted out in sheer annoyance. “I see you have a gun,” she said to Natasha, referring to the gun on her hip. “Mind if I borrow it?”

 

“Oh, this? Sorry, it's biometrically keyed to my fingerprints,” she answered with a smirk.

 

“Really? Sounds fancy. What do you do, if I can ask?”

 

She paused briefly, as if contemplating how to answer without giving too much away. “I'm an agent.”

 

“CIA, FBI, or...?”

 

“State Farm.”

 

Her fellow SHIELD agents snickered softly.

 

“Oh. Classified, then.”

 

“Yeah. If we told you what we really do,” Jessica's face hardened like an iron statue, “we'd have to kill you.”

 

Carol quickly filed that under 'do not ask'.

 

“It's nice to meet you, Captain, but you picked a bad time to show up. We're going through the starts of a major crisis,” Bruce said with a sympathetic half-smile.

 

“The wonder twins over there are finally hitting puberty,” Tony chimed, coaxing eye roll from said twins. “Also, a madman and his supervillain friends are trying to kill us,” he added nonchalantly, almost as an afterthought.

 

“What?!”

 

“Yep. Basically, a terrorist named Gene Khan attacked us yesterday with freaky magical rings and an actual dragon. Turns out he cobbled together a group of other terrorists to help him kill us. They include him, the dragon, this lady,” he jabbed a thumb at the image of the blonde woman, “and an Asgardian. They call themselves the Masters of Evil – lame, I know – and we have no idea where they are, what they plan on doing, or how they plan on doing it. Questions? Comments?

 

Carol sat still for several moments, dead silent. Terrorists, she had dealt with before. Terrorists were no problem at all. All that other shit he mentioned, not even close. Dragons, magic rings, whatever the hell an Asgardian was; that was shit that they didn't go over in basic training.

 

Whatever hope she had that this was going to be a simple occupation flew out the window before she could even get started. And yet, despite the very real danger she suddenly found herself in, she couldn't stop herself from smiling. “Good thing I can swim, because I just dove into the deep end.”

 

“If you want to reconsider—” Steve started, only to be cut off.

 

“Reconsider? Are you joking? This is what I live for. What kind of soldier would I be if I didn't get in line to kick some terrorist ass?”

 

“I think she'll fit right in,” Pietro said with a small smirk, with the others offering various degrees of agreement.

 

“Well, that settles it, then. If you'd like, we can show you up to your room,” Steve offered.

 

“Yes, I'd love that. It's been a long, hectic morning.” She stood and headed for her bags, which happened to be right next to the elevator.

 

He remembered how flustered she was trying to maneuver those two bags, as well as that pet cage when she first arrived. Hoping to alleviate some of the load, he jogged ahead of her and grabbed one of the bags. “I can take your bags up for you.”

 

“I got it. Thanks.”

 

“It's no troub—”

 

She all but snatched the suitcase handle out of his hand. “I said _I got it,”_ she said more forcefully, before adding in a softer, “Thank you.”

 

Steve stood there, frozen. His expression was a mixture of confusion and embarrassment, which had been a constant from the moment Carol arrive. Had he done something wrong? Did women not like gentlemen? Did they not like being helped? Had he missed a memo somewhere?

 

The elevator doors dinged, prompting Carol to roll her bags inside. A sharp metal clang of the cage hitting the floor sounded, followed by the violent hiss of an agitated feline. “Shit,” she cursed. “Sorry, girl.”

 

Jessica glided smoothly inside the car before the doors closed. “I'll show her to her room, Cap.” Steve didn't reply when the doors closed. She stepped around the suitcases and leaned against the back railing. “You'll be up on the 82nd floor, across the hall from me. That okay?”

 

“Sure, that's fine.”

 

As the car moved upward, the two women fell into a comfortable silence that was only filled by the sound of the car gliding up and Chewie's soft purring.

 

Which was good, because Carol was in no mood for talking. Not that Jessica was a bad person to speak with – she seemed like a cool girl to hang out with on a Friday night – and certainly not because Carol was terrified of her after she threatened to kill her if she so much as asked what she did for a living. Rather, she _could not_ believe she just blew off Captain America like he was some overzealous white knight. It was unreal. One moment, he was offering to help her take her bags up to her room – which she desperately needed – the next, he looked like she had just curbstomped his puppy. His gorgeous blue eyes, all wide with confusion, would haunt her for the rest of her life.

 

“So,” Jessica drawled in an attempt to break up the silence. “I gather you don't much care for chivalry.”

 

_Great._ Carol stifled a sigh. She figured it was only a matter of time before she brought it up. Probably because she was mad that Carol humiliated her friend. “No, it's not that,” she replied with a slight stammer. “I... I just don't like having things done for me.”

 

“So, you're one of _those_ types. I see.”

 

She couldn't help it. “What's that supposed to mean?” She tried to keep the annoyance out of her voice, since Jessica was a State Farm agent and could kick her ass six ways to Sunday.

 

“The kind of tough girl who can do it all on her own, without anyone's help, and _especially_ without a man's help,” she replied plainly.

 

A little over-simplified, but pretty close to the mark. Of course, Carol accepted help sometimes, like if whatever she was doing was literally impossible without another person. Even then, she had to see for herself just to make sure she couldn't do it. “Is that a problem?” Certainly not the tone of voice recommended when speaking to a trained State Farm agent.

 

“No,” she replied with a slight frown. “But, I would highly suggest you not pull that again with Steve.”

 

“Why not?” _Could you make yourself sound like a bigger bitch, Carol?_

 

“Because he's the most genuine person I've ever met,” she more asked than said. “When he comes to you trying to help, he actually wants to help, instead of just looking for a way into your knickers.”

 

This time, she didn't try to repress the pathetic sigh that came bubbling out. “Yeah, I know he is. I can tell.” Steve, honestly, seemed too earnest to be that subtle and sneaky.

 

“Then why you say it?”

 

“Out of reflex, mostly. Also, Chewie doesn't like being handled by strangers. But, mostly reflex.”

 

Jessica hummed to herself, but didn't respond. Good; she didn't want to go into why she had needed to say 'I got it. Thanks' enough times for it to become a reflexive response every time someone tried to pull out her chair whenever she went out to dinner with someone. Speaking of, she wondered if he was single. Probably not. There was no way in any circle of hell that a guy like that didn't have a line of women following him around on a daily basis.

 

Besides, someone like Carol didn't stand a chance with someone like Captain America.

 

“Cute cat, by the way.”

 

She was grateful for the subject change. She made a mental note to return to Steve and his jawline before bed. “Thanks. My mom got her for me for my birthday last year. Her name's Chewie.”

 

Jessica nodded amicably. “Oh, just FYI, but I was just having a go at you when I said I wanted to kill you. You look like a nice girl.”

 

Carol assumed that meant she was joking. Strange way of putting it, though. She was pretty sure go was a verb, not a noun. Then again, it sounded like she was from England or Britain. Whatever it was called. “That accent.... England?”

 

“Right, love. London, to be precise.” It appeared that she was just as interested in her own accent; however much of it was noticeable, anyway. Which wasn't very much, as she went through great lengths to minimize it as much as possible. “ _Your_ accent... _New_ England?”

 

“Right... love. Boston, to be precise.”

 

She snorted softly.

 

Calling another woman 'love' felt a little odd. She wondered what that word meant. She could have just asked her, but the elevator stopped on their floor before she could decide on it. Later, then.

 

“Alright, then. Here we are. There are four penthouses per floor. Mine is right over here,” she gestured to the first door on the left, “while Bruce's and Natasha's are the ones down the hall. “You'll be right across from me, so go ahead and have a peek.”

 

Carol's hand gripped the doorknob, but noticed it was locked upon jostling it. Before she could let go, a red light scanned her fingerprints. The door unlocked seconds later. She opened it, and couldn't stop her jaw from hitting the floor. The penthouse was one of four on a floor, and yet, was larger and more spacious than any house she had ever lived in. It was as big as the childhood home her father built from the ground up when she was a little girl, and much bigger than the quarters she stayed in on any Air Force base. Never had she ever had anything this nice. The walls were painted a deep red, while the carpet felt so soft and plush between her aching toes.

 

The view of New York was breathtaking from the panoramic window. “The dog's bollocks, eh?” Jessica asked as she sidled up next to her. “You've a master bedroom with a king sized bed and another view just like this one, a walk-in closet, and a fifty-inch telly. That one in the living room is seventy inches. You've also another guest room, a full bathroom with just the most delightful showerhead fixtures you've ever had, a kitchette, washer and dryer, another hall closet, and a nice balcony for those late nights where you just want to stare at the city and think about shite.”

 

The dog's... bollocks? What those were, and what they had to do with her new penthouse was completely lost on her. Not that it mattered. It was all too much. There was no way she was going to be able to properly appreciate all she had. No way in any lifetime could she comprehend how a man could have something like _this_ prepared for any potential guests. She could only assume that this was prepare between last night and right then, and that the other unoccupied penthouses were empty.

 

She bent down to let Chewie out of her cage. The feline meowed and stalked off somewhere to explore. “Wow. Stark spares no expense, does he?”

 

“Right you are, love. It's one of the things I adore about him; he's more than willing to go the extra kilometer for the people he cares about. Hell, just opening up his home to a bunch of strangers is enough. To give them _this_ kind of luxury?” She laughed and shook her head. “He may act like a jackass, but he really does have a heart of gold.”

 

Carol grinned and made a mental note to swallow her pride and thank Tony for the kind gesture. “Yeah... I'm going to like it here.”

 


	5. Old Rivals and New Allies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An old enemy from the past resurfaces, changing the entire landscape for the worst.

_**Old Rivals and New Allies** _

 

**SHIELD Helicarrier – 1:00 PM**

 

The midday sun shined brightly over the city of New York. The SHIELD helicarrier hovered overhead like a protective cloud, always ready to defend not just that particular city, but also the entire world if need be. Director Fury and his deputy, Commander Maria Hill, strode with purpose step for step deep within the bowels of the floating aircraft carrier. It had been a full two days since the attack in Houston, and Fury had assigned a group of scientists to analyze the insect corpses and determine what made them grow to such a large size.

 

He had an idea, but he wanted a second opinion.

 

They entered the lab, and were immediately greeted by a tall, blonde scientist. “Director Fury. Commander Hill,” she said with a sharp nod.

 

Hill nodded back while Fury said, “Dr. Morse. I'm told you found something.”

 

Dr. Barbara Morse, biochemist and field agent under the name Mockingbird. One of the few graduates of the SHIELD academy to successfully move from Science and Technology to Field Operations. She nodded and walked over to a console. “Yes sir. Preliminary DNA analysis showed that they were just normal, everyday insects.”

 

Fury raised an eyebrow, but showed no further sign of confusion. “Being the size of a Honda Prius isn't a normal, everyday kind of thing.”

 

“I agree, sir, which is why we did further testing. We found that their DNA had been tampered with. By what, we aren't sure, but we're working tirelessly to figure it out.”

 

He nodded and headed for the door, followed closely by Hill. “Keep me posted.” Once out in the corridor, Fury sighed through his nose. It had been a long two days. First, Houston; then, Gene Khan appeared with an honest to God dragon; then, it had been brought to his attention that there was not only another Asgardian on the loose – but not Loki, mercifully – but also someone gunning for his best agent.

 

He sighed again and shook his head. He dreaded the future, because past trends indicated that things were only going to get worse before they got any better. They always did. “Hill, any word on the wayward doctor and his assistant?” he asked suddenly.

 

“Pym and Lang? No sir. So far, all we've been able to determine is that they've both been kidnapped by a group with very high tech equipment. No trace, no witnesses, and the cameras in the area had been wiped clean of the entire incident.” She paused for a moment, as if coming to a realization. “Sir, you don't think Pym had anything to do with Houston, do you?”

 

“I don't think, I know. Pym made a breakthrough when he discovered Pym Particles; he's been shrinking things ever since. Stands to reason that he should be able to grow things by now, too. We've been keeping an eye on him ever since he got started in '89, but he's never been the type to pull something like this. Leads me to believe that he and Lang were taken for his technology. Houston was merely a test.”

 

“A successful one. We still haven't been able to shrink the bastards down for proper disposal. Any idea who kidnapped them?”

 

Fury's earpiece began to ring softly before he could answer. “Yes, actually. Coulson, talk to me.”

 

Agent Phil Coulson – who had just been cleared for field activity two months ago, was standing outside the door to the Avengers' conference room. _“Sir, the team is starting to get a little impatient. And Stark is actually on time.”_

 

That actually managed to to quirk Fury's lips up. “Of his own volition, or did someone have to drag him out of that workshop of his?” he questioned, with a note of amusement that wasn't unnoticed by either Hill or Coulson.

 

“ _The latter, sir.”_

 

“Thought so. We'll be there within a minute. Stick around; you'll want to hear what I have to say.”

 

“ _Yes sir.”_

 

Fury hung up and picked up his pace. “You too, Hill. I'm only going to tell the key people and don't want to repeat myself.”

 

She nodded and quickly followed after him.

 

* * *

 

**Meanwhile**

 

Tony was getting irritated. If there was anything worse than dragging him out of his workshop – where he was actually doing important things like upgrading the team's equipment and working on his Iron Man armors – it was wasting his time. He knew Fury was a busy man – how busy, no one could say for sure – but there was something called consideration. Though, Tony was hardly one to talk; he had long lost count of how many meetings he walked into midway through.

 

Fury and Hill walked in, followed closely by Coulson.

 

“Just show up whenever you'd like, Fury,” he said snidely, signature playful smirk tinged with bitterness in place. “Not like any of us has anything better to do than wait.”

 

“I see someone his proud of himself for showing up on time for once,” Hill remarked with an almost invisible smirk.

 

Tony merely raised an eyebrow. “If you actually talked about something interesting, maybe I'd feel more compelled to be punctual.”

 

Her face soured.

 

“Director Fury,” Steve said to calm everyone down and move on with the meeting, “what do you have for us?”

 

Fury gestured for Steve to hold that thought as his eyes cast down to the end of the conference table. “And you would be?”

 

Carol stood to attention and saluted. “Captain Carol Danvers, sir. 325Th, United States Air Force.” She smiled at the appreciative looks the three agents gave.

 

“At ease, Danvers, and welcome to the Avengers. If you need anything, talk to Hill or Coulson,” he replied, nodding his head at each agent as he spoke. He picked a small remote from off the table and turn on the screen behind him. Already queued up was the picture of the blonde woman that Wanda saw the day before. “Romanoff, do you want to inform your team of who this is, or should I?”

 

Natasha looked hesitant for a scant moment before nodding. “I will, sir. This is Yelena Belova. She's a countryman of mine from when I was Natalia Romanova. She's the seventeenth Black Widow to graduate out of the Red Room. She's had a grudge against me for about eight years now, to the point of becoming obsessed.”

 

She paused, and let a silent sigh breeze between her lips. She flinched slightly when Clint reached under the table and gave her knee a comforting squeeze. “She's been trying to kill me ever since I defected eight years ago. Even when SHIELD shut the Red Room down for good, she kept at it as a point of professional pride, I guess. She's dangerous; as dangerous as I am, except she doesn't seem to have a conscience, nor does she care what she has to do to achieve her goal. If she's with the Masters of Evil...”

 

There was no need to even complete the thought. The Black Widows had long been feared and respected throughout the intelligence community. There only being one, Natasha, did little to quell that fear. Years of rigorous training molded young girls into heartless killers. A Widow on her own was a credible threat worthy of the Avengers attention. To hear that she had allies in Gene Khan and an Asgardian sorcerer made an already dangerous situation even more so.

 

“Shit,” Tony mumbled as he scrubbed his face. “Alright. This means we need to double security around the Tower. No one go anywhere by yourselves. These Widows have fairy tale stealth and can probably kill you with a piece of yarn and a straw, so let's be careful out there.”

 

Pietro cleared his throat as he processed the information given quickly. “Seems everything is proceeding according to schedule. Our enemies reveal themselves slowly one by one. It won't be much longer before they start making their moves.”

 

“A Chinese nationalist with magic rings, an Asgardian magician, and an evil Black Widow,” Clint listed, checking the three off with his fingers. “Next, we'll have to fight a guy who eats planets for a living.” He shook his head.

 

“I'm pretty sure you just jinxed us,” Tony said absently.

 

Clint clinched up and scowled at the billionaire.

 

“At any rate, Stark is right. Widows aren't to be underestimated and won't be found unless they want to be,” Fury said in a bid to regain control of the meeting. “Moving on. We have a lead on our two missing persons, Dr. Hank Pym and Scott Lang.”

 

At that, Tony sat up and actually paid attention. He had known Pym for years, and had a great deal of respect for him. They even collaborated on Pym's latest project, as ambitious and dangerous as it was. When he heard that he and Lang – a fellow engineer and MIT graduate – had been kidnapped two months ago, he was highly disturbed. It wasn't hard to figure out _why_ Pym had been taken, but he just couldn't figure out who. Every tree he shook came up fruitless. “Well?”

 

“Remember yesterday when we said that something had gone wrong with our systems? Turns out we were hacked.”

 

“Wasn't me!” Tony exclaimed with his hands in the air.

 

“I'm aware, Stark. Doesn't look like they took anything of note, that I'm aware of. I have our best analysts combing through everything just to be certain. They did, however, leave this. How's this for interesting, Stark?”

 

When Fury turned the screen around to show them what was left, the blood of every Avenger went ice cold.

 

“Hydra,” Steve spat with so much vitriol that everyone flinched noticeably.

 

“They're back, and they have Pym and Lang. I'm certain.”

 

Steve stood up abruptly and silently walked out. No one was surprised, and everyone knew better than to try and follow him.

 

Fury watched him and shook his head. “Let him blow off some steam. We need to concern ourselves with where they're hiding out. Hydra is far too dangerous to be left to their own devices. With Pym and his Pym Particles, all hell will break loose and we may not be able to contain it.”

 

Fury's grim statement rang true. A tense silence swept through the conference room as each person contemplated his or her role in the upcoming efforts. Tony, for his part, remembered what Howard kept telling him during his drunken rants – that he was a part of the efforts that snuffed out Hydra for good. Or, so they thought. In his latter years, Howard would inadvertently let it slip that they were still hunting down Hydra sleeper cells even decades after the war and the death of the Red Skull. Tony never though anything of it, being as young as he was, but right then, it was chilling.

 

He wanted to ask if Hydra had been around this entire time, the words were right on the tip of his tongue. He relented. Judging by the way he glanced at him, Fury knew that he knew. Just when Tony thought Fury couldn't sink any lower, this came up. To hide that the most notorious terrorist organization in human history was hiding under everyone's noses was deplorable. It was also necessary, and he _hated_ that he understood why Fury kept quiet.

 

“We need to increase our efforts to find Pym,” Fury said quietly. “Hydra has a headstart, so we're already behind the eight ball. Big time. Dismissed.”

 

The team silently filed out one by one, except for Jessica, who remained behind to discuss something private with Fury.

 

As they headed for the quinjet, Steve stood stoically in front of the window of the command center. His faraway gaze penetrated the Atlantic Ocean. He could hardly believe that it had been three years a few months ago since he was fished out by Namor the Submariner. From the moment he opened his eyes in the twenty-first century, he knew his life had changed forever. At least, he thought, it would be a life without Hydra. He sacrificed it all to make sure the Red Skull couldn't destroy the eastern seaboard, killing millions.

 

Had he failed, Hydra would have taken over the world.

 

That didn't happen. He closed his eyes on March 1, 1945 knowing that he had stopped Hydra for good, that without Schmidt, they were history. Now, sixty-eight years later, Hydra had returned, and he felt sick to his stomach. It was fitting, and a morbid way, that two entities from a time long past – himself and Hydra – had now returned in modern times.

 

_How?_ he asked himself. _How have they stayed under the radar for so long when SHIELD has been around since after WWII? Is Schmidt back, too?_

 

That was a legitimate concern if that madman was back. He didn't die; of that, Steve was then sure. He saw the Tesseract in action during the Battle of Manhattan. He saw how it opened a portal to the other side of the universe and let those bastard Chitauri through to terrorize New York. He had a hunch that Schmidt was still alive, somewhere in the cosmos.

 

If and when that piece of crap returned, he could rest assured that Captain America's would be the first face he saw.

 

“Captain,” Carol called out quietly.

 

He sighed softly, but didn't turn to acknowledge her. “Steve will do just fine, Captain.”

 

“Carol.” She close the rest of the distance between them and stood next to him.

 

“Carol.”

 

“I just... wanted to check on you. Since no one else seemed to want to.”

 

He didn't know what to say. He barely knew the woman, at all, so spilling too much of what he was thinking was out of the question. Still, it was touching that she at least wanted to see about him, even though they had just met yesterday. “I'm fine.”

 

He noticed her nod her head. “Hey, I... I know that this isn't really that big a deal compared to all of,” she gestured expansively, “this you guys got going on, but... I'm sorry about yesterday.”

 

She left it at that. No reason, no excuses, nothing but an apology. “I accept,” he saw with a ghost of a smile.

 

“Okay, good.” He expected her to shamble off to the quinjet, but found her still standing next to him. Rather awkwardly, at that. “So... Hydra.”

 

“Yeah,” he said with a heavy sigh. “Me and a few others spent the better part of two years hunting down Hydra bases during the war. I went under in '45 knowing I had stopped Hydra from taking over the world. When I woke up in '10, they weren't anywhere to be found. Now, I find out they've been hiding out for the last seven decades.”

 

His voice was so low that he was sure Carol could barely hear him. She frowned and looked out of the window with him. The view of the Atlantic Ocean, shimmering softly in the sunlight, was deceptively gorgeous. He knew just how deadly the ice cold temperature under those waves really were.

 

“We learned the bare basics about them in World History in high school,” she said. “If they're anything like the Air Force, then killing the top guy won't be enough to stop them.”

 

_'Cut off one head, two more will grow to take its place!'_ It was Hydra's motto, its creed. More than that, it seemed to be a fact. Johann Schmidt was the head of Hydra during the war. Dr. Arnim Zola was his second-in-command. However, it wasn't just those two. There were also Baron Wolfgang von Strucker and Baron Heinrich Zemo. When Steve went under, Schmidt had vanish, Zola had been captured by the Allies weeks earlier, and Zemo had been killed when Steve and James Barnes helped the Red Army liberate Auschwitz concentration camp in January of 1945.

 

All that had been left was Strucker. Steve felt like such a fool. It had never even occurred to him. “Guess I should have seen this coming. Out of the four heads, we only dealt with three.”

 

“Well, there you go. Whoever you're talking about is already dead, I would think, so they're under new management.”

 

“New management is like the old management. These people have no sense of self-preservation, Carol.” He remembered clearly when the Hydra spy crunched on a cyanide tablet to kill himself before Steve could bring him in. The same with every other one they managed to capture. “Zeal is the worst thing an insane person can have. If they believe in something, they'll do _anything_ for it. If this new crop of Hydra is anything like the one I faced, we're in for trouble.”

 

She pursed her lips and thought for a moment. “I've come up against a lot of different terrorists in my day,” she started quietly. “I know that these fanatics are probably a worse threat to humanity than the giant monsters you guys fight everyday. At least with those things, they stick out like a sore thumb. Thing with Al Qaeda, the Ten Rings, Hydra, and AIM is that they look like us. You can't pick them out from any other Mike, Sal, and Sully from down the street until they've blown up a crowded supermarket. You don't know who's the enemy until its too late because it's not like they're wearing lime green jumpsuits whenever they walk down the street.”

 

Steve listened to everything she had to say, and found himself agreeing. He already knew that he was likely to be Hydra's top target when they started making their moves, but it wasn't himself that he was worried about. It was everyone else who happened to be around him. Just like with the spy who tried to kill that young boy to get away, Hydra had proven itself more than willing to throw as many lives as it needed to into danger to achieve its goals. If they wanted him dead, then no one – not even the Avengers – were safe.

 

“But, we do have the Avengers,” she continued. “You guys overcome the odds, like, every other week. I mean, look at you. You and your Howling Commandos chipped away at Hydra for two years before you stopped the Red Skull from blowing up half the US. If you did that by yourself with a bunch of regular people, think of what would happen with the Hulk, Thor, and Iron Man. Hydra is damn right to be hiding right now.”

 

Steve turned his head toward her and studied her quietly. For someone so young, he assumed, she wasn't some wide-eyed youth who was speaking out of hero worship. He supposed the military had phased that out a long time ago. She, like he, had seen things, and was speaking from experience.

 

He smiled and faced her completely. “Yeah, but they've learned from their past mistakes. They couldn't have stayed hidden this long if they hadn't. Not that it matters; we _do_ have a Hulk, after all.”

 

She grinned and jabbed him on the arm. “See, that's the spirit. When the leader's all doom and gloom, it makes everyone else nervous. Not saying you have to fart out sunshine and rainbows, but please stop being so brooding. I can tell that Barton has that demographic filled.”

 

She certainly wasn't wrong about that. He had to keep himself together and looking at the silver linings, or else morale was going to drop before the first battle had even been fought.

 


	6. Of Mice and Giant Men

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Tony was about to defend his character and decision making abilities when a pair of stiletto heels clacking against the cement floor drew their attention. The tiny woman walking toward them briskly couldn't have any bigger than Natasha, who stood at 5'3. A playful, slightly coquettish smirk played on her lips. 
> 
> “Janet, dear,” Tony greeted with arms spread out wide. 
> 
> “Tony, babe. It's been too long.” Steve watched them hug and exchange kisses on the cheek like they did in Europe sometimes. “Oh, and you brought me lunch.” She looked Steve up and down, an allured hum slipped from her throat. “And he looks scrumptious.”
> 
> He couldn't stop himself from blushing."
> 
> Tony and Steve play detective in New Jersey, then come face to face with Hydra.

_**Of Mice and Giant Men** _

 

**Two Days Later**

 

Steve took Natasha's advice and got some rest for the rest of that day before going with her to find any intelligence they could on Belova and Hydra the day after. They found nothing, to neither of their surprise. They stayed hidden for nearly seven decades. That meant leaving as little bread crumbs as possible. Without any leads as to Hydra's whereabouts, they decided to investigate Pym's and Lang's disappearance.

 

The following day, Steve and Tony drove over to New Jersey to speak with someone from Van Dyne Industries, where Pym and Lang were working on a secret project. Inquiries into what that project was came up empty, so they decided to head over there to rattle some trees personally.

 

“Alright, listen up, Spangles,” Tony said as he drove his favorite jet black Porsche in and out of the slower moving highway traffic. “The person I called and asked to speak with us is a dear friend, so try not to embarrass me.”

 

Steve rolled his eyes and continued to read over the files he received from SHIELD on Vernon van Dyne. The research the African-American scientist was involved in was complex, but interesting. A means of extraterrestrial communication seemed like something out of a science fiction movie. Then again, he himself was something out of a science fiction movie, so he supposed he had no room to talk. “I'll just keep quiet, then,” he eventually answered. “How'd you get time from the CEO?”

 

“You assume incorrectly. He was too busy, so I had to settle for his daughter.”

 

He flipped through the pages in the file until he found one he was looking for. The accompanying picture was one of a cute young woman with tan skin and short black hair wearing a lab coat. She was standing in the middle of a messy lab that immediately reminded Steve of Tony's workshop. Janet van Dyne, 26 years old from Cresskill, New Jersey. Double PhD in molecular biology and biochemistry, and she was the leading researcher into bio-electricity as a source of clean, renewable energy. She had been working for her father for seven months up to that point, and had been in close contact with Dr. Hank Pym for the last ten years. She served as an assistant on his secret project for a short period of time before mutually agreeing to discontinue.

 

“You keep intelligent company,” he commented, to which Tony smirked.

 

“I don't care for idiots,” he replied. “Remind me again why I'm friends with you.”

 

“Hilarious.”

 

“But, seriously, I don't know why I brought you. One look and she's going to eat you alive.” A look of utter confusion mixed with terror forced him to explain. “She's, ah, like me. Or how I used to be.”

 

That was all the explanation Steve needed. He suddenly regretted coming along. “I should have just stayed home.”

 

Tony couldn't disagree with that statement. “Yeah, but it's probably good for you to get out somewhere. You can only stare at Wanda's ass so many times before Pietro rips your head off.”

 

A sense of dread washed over Steve. He had hoped it wasn't that obvious, but he couldn't help himself. It was wrong, he knew, but... “Did Natasha tell you?”

 

“Thor.”

 

Of course. He had been sitting right there the first time it happened. Steve felt like a man playing a dangerous game. “So, you say Janet is just like you, huh?” he asked in a desperate bid to change the subject.

 

“Yep. Inherited wealth, loves fucking, buys shit she doesn't need; you know, the usually Tony Stark starter kit.” After a beat, he added, “I may or may not have been a bad influence.”

 

He could only shake his head. One Tony was bad enough. He didn't think he could handle one in a skirt. The sudden image of Tony in a skirt made him shudder silently.

 

The remainder of the trip went by quickly. Tony pulled into the entrance of Van Dyne Industries' headquarters and found a place to park inside the underground parking garage. While not as tall as Stark Tower, the building was still larger than most Steve had seen. He wondered what else they did beside try to talk to aliens. “She knows we're here, right?”

 

“No shit, Sherlock,” he answer, incredulity barely restrained. “You think I'd drive an hour through New Jersey traffic without telling her we were coming?”

 

He sighed as he climbed out of the car. “Don't know, Tony. Sounds like something you'd do.”

 

Tony was about to defend his character and decision making abilities when a pair of stiletto heels clacking against the cement floor drew their attention. The tiny woman walking toward them briskly couldn't have any bigger than Natasha, who stood at 5'3. A playful, slightly coquettish smirk played on her lips.

 

“Janet, dear,” Tony greeted with arms spread out wide.

 

“Tony, babe. It's been too long.” Steve watched them hug and exchange kisses on the cheek like they did in Europe sometimes. “Oh, and you brought me lunch.” She looked Steve up and down, an allured hum slipped from her throat. “And he looks scrumptious.”

 

He couldn't stop himself from blushing. Thanks to Natasha, he had grown a little more accustomed to women eyeballing him too closely for his tastes, but it was still jarring to be ogled so blatantly. “Steve Rogers, ma'am.” He held his hand out.

 

She took it. He noticed her hand was warm and soft, like a baby's skin. “Dr. Janet van Dyne. The pleasure is all mine, handsome. Shall we?” She led them inside and into an elevator. “So, Steve, if you're in town for the night, I'd love to show you around.”

 

They had barely met a full minute ago and she was already asking him out on a date. As fun a time as he was sure she could and would show him, they had much more important things to worry about. “I appreciate the offer, but we have a lot on our plates right now.”

 

If she was disappointed, she didn't let it show. “I understand. But, when you're plate is free of obligations, let me know.” She winked flirtatiously at him and walked through the elevator doors when they opened on the floor where her office was.

 

Said office was as messy in person as it was in the picture he looked at. Papers were strewn all over the large metal desk, along with a purse, a laptop, and a smartphone. There was a dozens of pictures taped to the wall behind that desk. Many of them were from newspaper articles. “So, Scott and Hank, right? Honestly, I hadn't seen them in a few weeks. Didn't even know they were missing until a week after they had vanished.”

 

Steve and Tony sat down in the two chairs in front of her desk. Van Dyne Industries was a big place, with a lot of moving parts, he imagined. It made sense that two people, even if they worked in the same field of study, wouldn't see much of each other on a day-to-day basis. Still, if they were as close as he imagined they would be after a ten year friendship, he assumed she would have noticed his absence right away.

 

Then again, he wasn't a scientist and wasn't aware of how easy it was to fall into a routine of work and sleep without much credence given to anything else. “You didn't notice?”

 

She shrugged sheepishly. “This project of mine is pretty time consuming. I just assumed they were working at night and sleeping during the day. Besides, our labs are on different floors and I rarely go to his ever since we split up.”

 

“You two dated?” Her disgusted face made him regret asking.

 

“Ugh, no! He's, like, fifty. Or close to it. Way too old for my tastes, anyway.” She let out an exaggerated shudder and swept a stray hair behind her ear. “Anyway, we didn't see much of each other since then. He was supposed to give Dad a report on his project, but never did. That's how I found out.”

 

Steve nodded slowly and glanced at Tony. He was frowning heavily and staring at his phone. Certainly not the most polite thing to do while talking to someone, but given how his lips were tugged down and how focused he looked, it was something important. “Find something?”

 

He said nothing, but handed Steve the phone. On the screen was a video feed of two men, one with graying blonde hair and the other with dark brown hair walking through the parking lot together. He recognized them as Hank Pym and Scott Lang, respectively. Pym was carrying a metal suitcase, Lang a silver helmet of some kind. They were just about to reach a red sedan when a black van pulled up beside them. Half a dozen people, each carrying a large assault rifle, jumped out of the back and forced them inside. Before pulling away, one pointed what looked like a remote at the camera, then leaped into the back.

 

The most disturbing thing about the video was how quickly it was over. From beginning to end, the entire kidnapping couldn't have lasted more than thirty seconds. Granted, the kidnappers were wielding large assault rifles, so that added some incentive to do what they said quickly.

 

More importantly, there was no way to determine whether they were with Hydra or not, as the assailants weren't wearing any uniforms with identifying markings. Still, he could feel it in his gut; they were responsible.

 

“No identifying marks,” Tony uttered. “But, I'm almost positive they're Hydra.”

 

“I agree. We need to tell Fury right away and send him this video, if he hasn't already seen it.”

 

“What are you two talking about?” Janet asked, a confused frown creasing her brow. “Do you guys know where Hank and Scott are or not?”

 

“Slow down, Shortstack. We—” Tony started before catching a glimpse of one of the pictures taped to the wall behind her. It was a picture of her and Hank leaning on a table, with an ant the size of a football standing between them.

 

Steve saw it too and felt his breath catch. “When was that picture taken?” he asked, pointing to the picture in question.

 

She turned and found what he was talking about. “About... two months ago. Why?”

 

“Did you read about Houston?” Tony didn't wait for her to answer. “It was attacked by giant ants and wasps. We believe that Hydra, or whoever took Hank, took him for his Pym Particle research.”

 

She frowned suspiciously. “How'd you know about that? That's top secret.”

 

“Janet, Hank and Scott were kidnapped by a terrorist organization and you're worried about me knowing trade secrets? They're in a lot of danger and we need to get them back. But first, we need to know what we're dealing with. Did you work with him on that project?”

 

She hesitated, both from shock and unease at talking about classified information. Eventually, she sighed and capitulated. “Yeah. That was what we were collaborating on before we parted ways. I helped him with his, he helped with mine.”

 

“Which was bio-electrical energy, right?” She nodded. “How far along have you gotten?”

 

Again, she hesitated.

 

Steve could see Tony losing his patience. “Ma'am, we wouldn't be asking these questions if it wasn't important. The more time we waste, the less time we have to try and find Dr. Pym and Mr. Lang.”

 

Hearing that put her more at ease, seemingly. “I was just about to start testing.”

 

“Testing?”

 

“On the effect enhanced bio-electricity would have on a normal human. We were about to do animal testing to see if it was even possible to harness it from a living specimen,” she answered.

 

It sure sounded like she was dancing around the fact that she was planning on weaponizing it. Or, if _she_ wasn't, her father was. That made sense; Spider-Woman was living proof at how potent that stuff could be.

 

“What about the Pym Particles? Were they ready for testing?”

 

“No,” she answered immediately. “Hank was adamant that he wasn't ready for a living test subject, much less a human.”

 

Steve and Tony shared an uneasy glance. The Houston incident was proof that Pym Particles worked on living specimens. It wasn't too big a leap to assume that whoever took Pym would want to try human testing as soon as possible. Combine that with Janet's research into weaponized bio-electricity, and they were looking at a new breed of super-soldiers. Ones that could grow into giants and unleash devastating energy blasts.

 

“We need to fill Fury in as soon as possible,” he said to Tony. Turning his attention to Janet, he added, “And you should come with us, Dr. van Dyne.”

 

“No way. I have way too much work to do,” she protested defiantly. “Besides, I—”

 

“It's your work that's the problem, Shortstack,” Tony interrupted. “You're researching converting bio-electrical currents into a biological energy source. If Hydra gets a hold of that and combines it with Pym's work, we're going to be dealing with a shit-ton of hundred foot tall psychopaths capable of blowing up entire cities.” He wanted to add more, but held off when he saw her expression shift from defiant to thoughtful to horrified in a matter of seconds.

 

“You think I could be next?” she queried uneasily.

 

“Yes,” he responded simply.

 

“Which is why you need to come with us. We'll be able to protect you until this situation is taken care of,” Steve added.

 

She ran a hand through her hair and sighed shakily. “Okay, okay. I... let me pack a bag or something.” She walked out of the room quietly and disappeared down the hall.

 

Steve and Tony walked out into the hallway a few moments later. “In all likelihood, Hydra already has at least one person enhanced by those Pym Particles,” Tony posited. “Which means they're going to make a play for Janet any day now.”

 

“I can have Fury give her an around-the-clock security detail, maybe send her to one of his secret safehouses until the coast is clear.”

 

He nodded once. “I'm pretty sure he already knows everything we just learned.”

 

That wasn't surprising, given he already knew that Hydra was still active. That begged the question, though, of why he didn't tell them at the meeting yesterday. If he wasn't sure, a hunch was much better than nothing at all. “Starting to get a little tired of being kept in the dark.”

 

To that, Tony only chuckled bitterly.

 

 

 

Minutes later, Tony was speeding down the interstate toward Manhattan. Steve was in the passenger seat, and Janet in the back. Steve had his phone out and was getting ready to call Fury to request that he give Janet some protection until they dealt with Hydra. “Nick, Rogers here. You may have been right about Hydra having Pym and Lang. We're on our way back from New Jersey, and we have Janet van Dyne with us.”

 

He heard Fury shift slightly. _“Van Dyne? Why?”_

 

“Her research puts her on Hydra's watchlist.”

 

“ _You're right. I'll send an agent in about an hour once we have a safehouse set up for her somewhere out of the way. Tell her not to worry; we'll take care of her.”_

 

“Thanks, Nick.” He hung up and breathed out a sigh of relief. That was one less thing to worry about. Once Janet was safe in the SHIELD safehouse, they could concentrate on saving Pym and Lang without having to worry about her being taken as well.

 

He and Tony agreed that Hydra had likely exposed a human being to Pym Particles by then. Whether or not that endeavor was successful remained to be seen, but there was no disputing they had already tried. Without Janet's research, they would at worst be dealing with an army of giants. Nothing out of the ordinary, and certainly nothing they couldn't handle. Hell, Thor and his family waged war with an entire race of giants for centuries.

 

“Nick agreed to send her to a safehouse,” he informed Tony, who sighed with relief.

 

“Can someone please explain to me what the hell this Hydra is you two keep whispering about?” Janet demanded from the back seat.

 

“You should remember that from history class, Shortstack,” Tony chided playfully. “Unless you were distracted for whatever reason.” He grinned when he looked in the rear view and saw her annoyed glare. He also saw what looked like a black aircraft flying in the distance. “Hydra was a very advanced, very dangerous division of the Nazi party during WWII. This guy,” he jabbed his thumb at Steve, “can tell you all about them.” He looked again and saw the same aircraft still flying in their direction. It was a good distance away, but was steadily getting closer.

 

“Oh, yeah? Are you a history buff or something.

 

Steve chuckled nervously, both from having Janet's attention back on him and from seeing Tony constantly glance anxiously at the rear view mirror. “Not exactly. I can tell you better than he can because I was there.”

 

“Yeah, right!” she choked before laughing uproariously. “Holy shit! That was a good one.”

 

He couldn't help but smile. He had gotten this kind of reaction pretty much every time he told someone he fought in WWII. To be fair, it _was_ a pretty far-fetched thing to claim. “I'm not kidding, ma'am. You see, I'm Captain America.”

 

Gradually, Janet's laughter died down into the occasional chuckle as her brain slowly started to put the pieces together. “Holy shit,” she said, but with none of the mirth that had accompanied the same words uttered not even a minute ago. “How the... you're so fucking old.”

 

Tony barked out a laugh. Seconds later, before he could say a word, their car and every car around them were caught in a sudden hail of red hot bullets. Literal hell rained down on them from above, ripping through the roof as if it was made of tinfoil. Luckily, the occupants were barely missed.

 

The same couldn't be said for the neighboring cars, as many of them veered out of control when their drivers were riddled with bullet holes.

 

“Jesus! What the hell is going on?!” Janet screamed as she ducked down and covered her head.

 

Tony peered intently into his rear view and side mirrors. The latter revealed the same aircraft from before, with a large machine gun already unleashing another barrage. “Shit! We got company! Hang on.” His warning came a narrow second prior to him swerving in and out of traffic to avoid being hit. It worked, at the expense of the innocent bystanders. “Enough of this. Take the wheel.”

 

Steve unbuckled and grabbed hold of the steering wheel as Tony climbed to the backseat. There was a red and gold briefcase on the floor. He opened it to reveal the pieces to his new and improved Mark 44 armor. Like the Mark 42 in that he could summon the pieces to him no matter how much distance separated them. Unlike the much maligned Mark 42, this armor was actually combat ready and wasn't prone to falling apart at the absolute worst possible moments.

 

He rolled down the window and shimmied out and onto the roof, where the pieces attached themselves onto him. “Let's see how you like a taste of your own medicine,” he yelled before opening fire on the jet. It quickly veered left to avoid the gunfire; doing so halted their own fire as he was able to escape their crosshairs.

 

He gave chase, but dared not do anything else while they were so close to the interstate. One slip-up and someone below them could die. Needless to say, that wasn't going to happen if he could help it.

 

Steve took advantage of the temporary ceasefire and pushed the exotic sportscar to its limits. With his enhanced reflexes, he was able to easily avoid slower moving traffic without losing much speed. Every so often, he glanced into the rear view mirror when he felt it was safe to take his eyes off the road for a split second. Each time, the jet and Tony were getting further and further away. He was confident that Tony could handle himself against a jet, even if it was Hydra.

 

“What the fuck is going on?!” Janet screeched.

 

He sighed; he had forgotten all about her in the back seat in all the excitement. “That's Hydra, ma'am. Looks like Tony and I were right; they're aiming to take you like they did Pym and Lang.”

 

“No!” Janet turned around to look out of the back window. She could see the faint shape of a black jet in a fierce firefight with Tony's Iron Man armor. “Will Tony be okay?”

 

He could hear the tremble in her voice. It suddenly occurred to him that this was likely the first time she had been the subject of a kidnapping attempt. It didn't take much guessing to figure that she was terrified. He was surprised that she was holding it together _this_ well. “Don't worry, Janet. We're almost out of danger.”

 

“Are you sure?”

 

“I promi—” As he spoke, he glanced into the rear view again. He saw Tony blasting chunks off the highly durable Hydra jet. Black smoke was rising out of the aircraft; it couldn't take much more damage. Suddenly, before he could even finish the second word, Iron Man went dead and dropped out of the sky. “No,” he whispered tensely. The cacophony of car and tractor trailer horns echoed through his head.

 

“Tony!”

 

Steve knew he couldn't just leave Tony there in the middle of the interstate with a dead suit. If Hydra didn't kill him, the terrified traffic would. He intended on getting off on the nearest exit ramp, then circling back around to pick him up. It was dangerous; Hydra's quarry was in the back seat. Despite the risk, he wouldn't live with himself if he let anything happen to his friend.

 

He never got the chance to carry out his intentions. Several dozen yards in front of them emerged a second jet. Immediately, it opened fire on the car. Red hot orange streaks of molten metal exploded through the windshield. Steve instinctively – and futilely – put his arm up to protect his face, but was hit twice in the shoulder and thigh. Pain erupted through his entire body, seizing his senses and sending him into a daze. He could barely keep the car on the road.

 

Janet screamed bloody murder and dropped to the floor. He glanced back briefly and saw a growing red blotch on her white blouse.

 

His entire face blanched more quickly than it would have with just the blood loss. Janet had been hurt, and there was nothing he could do about it. He would be damned if she was killed on his watch. “I don't have time for this bullshit! Hang on, Janet!” Pushing onward through the pain pulsating through his injured arm and leg, he swerved in and out of traffic, barely avoiding the unrelenting volley from the Hydra jet in front of them.

 

Suddenly, the volley stopped and the jet turned around. The back hatch opened and a man leaped out. It looked like he was going to land right in the middle of traffic. He was going to be killed; not that Steve minded. One less Hydra parasite.

 

Just when he reached the one-third mark of his fall, he touched something on his belt buckle, then pressed a button attached to his glove. Then, a yellow aura enveloped around him, and he grew. And grew and grew, until he was close to two hundred feet tall. His landing shook a hundred yard stretch of the interstate. The pavement cracked and broke apart under his immense weight. Car brakes screeched and the metal bumpers crunched when vehicles in all six lanes of traffic slammed into his feet.

 

He was wearing a special dark green and black full body suit that was able to stretch to great lengths in order to comfortably accommodate his enhanced size. On his shoulders, the Hydra insignia was displayed for the entire world to see.

 

“Oh my God!” Janet repeated incessantly, her brain unable to think of anything else to say. With greater speed than his size should have allowed, the goliath reached down and snatched the jet black Porsche off the ground. With ease, his index finger and thumb ripped the top off like one would a sardine can and plucked a shrieking Janet out like a delicate flower.

 

Steve watched in horror, frozen into a useless statue from fear. He wasn't able to think, much less do anything against the gargantuan man.

 

“I'M SORRY,” the man boomed in an oddly apologetic tone when he gently placed the vehicle Steve was sitting in back down on the interstate. He turned his upper body and just as gently placed Janet inside the jet, then kept his hand on the gangplank. His massive body slowly shrunk down back to the size of a normal man, and two operatives inside helped him climb inside.

 

Steve watched the jet take off due north with a stupefied gawp. Not only had they failed to protect Janet and let her get kidnapped, but the man who kidnapped her had the nerve and audacity to apologize for it. He had never heard anything like it. An apology coming from an agent of Hydra. Not only that, but it sounded _genuine._ Something wasn't adding up, but there was no time to try and figure it out. Tony still needed to be saved from the first Hydra jet.

 

Steve hoped he wasn't too late. He couldn't stand to fail twice in the same day.

 


	7. Incentive for Obedience

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "The woman's head tilted to the side as she pressed the smoking hot barrel of her gun against Cassie's temple. The girl screamed out in pain and tried to get away, which only prompted the woman to tighten her grip on her arm. “Do what I tell you, or I will make you watch me kill your only child,” she stated coldly. “Then, I will let you go, so you can explain to Maggie why her daughter is dead. Do you understand me?”"
> 
> We meet Giant Man, and Hydra's mysterious and scary leader.

_**Incentive for Obedience** _

 

**Location Unknown**

 

The battle with Iron Man left one of the two jets dispatched by Hydra badly damaged. If it wasn't for Iron Man's suit suddenly shutting down, it would have been destroyed. Not that it mattered, it served its purpose well enough. Stark was the biggest threat to the operation. With him too busy protecting himself and the surrounding civilians from the unyielding fire, the second jet had an easy time capturing Janet van Dyne.

 

The ten agents returned with an unconscious van Dyne slung over one of their shoulders. She was gently placed on a gurney and whisked away to the medical lab to have her gunshot wound tended to. “Madame Hydra is away on business, but she said she'll return in a few hours,” one of the administrative agents stated as she walked up to them. She handed one of them a folder, then turned on her heels and walked away.

 

The man sighed and unclipped the chinstrap to his helmet so he could take it off.

 

“Good job out there, Lang,” the woman next to him commended with a clap on his shoulder. If she wasn't a neo-nazi piece of scum, he would have felt good at the praise. Instead, it made him sick to his stomach.

 

Scott Lang still wasn't sure how he had gotten caught up in this mess, but he knew he was in too deep to back out now.

 

> _That fateful day two months ago had been like any other. He and Hank Pym were working on Hank's cybernetic helmet in the latter's lab at Van Dyne Industries. Their boss, Vernon van Dyne, was keenly aware of the benefits of being able to have two-way communication with insects and wanted a prototype on his desk as soon as possible. That time would have been two days later. “Did Mr. van Dyne say how much he was going to pay us for the prototype?” Scott asked as he and Hank strolled through the mostly empty underground parking garage at the end of the day._
> 
>  
> 
> _It was in the late afternoon on a mid-April day. The sun was out, the birds were singing, and there wasn't a cloud in the sky. The temperature was in the low-sixties. It was a perfect spring day. “If it works, a few million,” Hank replied, putting emphasis on the if._
> 
>  
> 
> “ _It'll work, Hank. Trust me. I worked on it myself.” He grinned, only for it to dim when Hank sighed. “What?”  
> _
> 
> “ _Nothing, it's just... this is part of my life's work, and I'm selling it for profit.” He shook his head. “We should be using this technology to help people, to save lives. Imagine this helmet and a suit equipped with Pym Particle canisters. Imagine the good we'll be able to do.”_
> 
>  
> 
> _Scott had to admit, the idea of helping people did sound appealing. Especially for someone like him, he spent a long time hurting people. Sure, it was for a good cause – Cassie needed to have surgery, which cost a lot of money – but that didn't stop his conscience from bothering him. “Yeah. We could even join the Avengers.”_
> 
>  
> 
> “ _Right!” Hank sighed again, shoulders slumping slightly. “Instead, we're selling it to a corporation that'll just sell it to the military.”_
> 
>  
> 
> “ _I thought VDI didn't have any military contracts?” he queried with a raised eyebrow._
> 
>  
> 
> “ _Not yet. With this, the Pentagon will be tripping all over itself to get a piece of the pie.”_
> 
>  
> 
> _Scott knew that Hank was a pacifist and didn't believe that violence was ever the answer. He believed that science should have been used to help, not harm. And he was right. There was so much good to be done with science that it boggled the mind that anyone could even contemplate using it for ill purposes. But, just as he told his daughter, Cassie, there were bad people out there who only cared about themselves. It made men like Hank all the more important._
> 
>  
> 
> _They were almost to Hank's red Honda Civic when a black van skidded around the corner from the level above and sped toward them. It slammed on the brakes, and six people in black body armor jumped out of the back. The very first thing Scott noticed were the big assault rifles being pointed at them. “What the—”_
> 
>  
> 
> “ _Shut the fuck up and get in the fucking van! **NOW!”** one of the men shouted. _
> 
>  
> 
> “ _Okay, okay.” Scott and Hank complied and climbed in hastily. As soon as they were inside, black burlap sacks were placed over their heads before they were both knocked out by a swift blow to the head with the butt of a rifle._

 

Scott didn't remember much else about that day, it was mostly a blur. The only thing he could remember was waking up in a barren cell and being incredibly cold. So cold that he was shivering. He knew nothing about where he was or who had taken him. He didn't even know if Hank was still alive at that point. It wasn't until his cell opened up three days later that he learned something.

 

> _Scott had been laying on the cold, hard slab of concrete that apparently passed for a bed in this place when the door to his cell suddenly swung open. To that point, the only human contact he had was with a mousy woman who couldn't have been any older than twenty carrying in a tray of lukewarm food and a glass of tap water. He assumed that was who it was, and since he wasn't hungry enough yet to eat literal shit, he wasn't in any hurry to get up to watch her place the tray on the table, the only other piece of furniture in the cell._
> 
>  
> 
> “ _Mr. Lang,” greeted a woman who most certainly was anything but mousy._
> 
>  
> 
> _When he sat up, the first thing he noticed was her attire. She was wearing a sleeveless, dark green catsuit, like the Black Widow wore, along with long gloves of the same color. The next thing he noticed was that she was ripped; her arms were more sculpted than his were and her legs were like they were chiseled out of marble. Actually, her entire body looked like she was chiseled out of marble. The last thing he noticed were the piercing green eye staring back at him. Just the left one; the right eye, along with nearly the entire right half of her face, was obscured by a curtain of black hair._
> 
>  
> 
> _Her stare was unnerving. She looked like a snake biding its time until its prey was comfortable before sinking its fangs into its flesh. Scott felt his heart beating a little faster every second her unyielding gaze fell on him. “W-who are you?”_
> 
>  
> 
> “ _Your new employer.”_
> 
>  
> 
> _Her accent, it sounded like she was from Eastern Europe. Where exactly, he didn't know. Honestly, they all sounded the same to him. She could have been Russian, Hungarian, Sokovian, or any of the other countries in between. Her answer, though, was what sent a chill up his spine. “Employer? Where the hell am I?”_
> 
>  
> 
> _She didn't answer. Instead, she continued to stare at him._
> 
>  
> 
> “ _Did you hear me? Where am I?! Where's Hank?!”_
> 
>  
> 
> “ _Dr. Pym is currently working on completing the task I assigned him yesterday,” she replied simply._
> 
>  
> 
> _He got it. Where he was wasn't on the list of things his new 'employer' wanted him to know, so he was going to keep getting the runaround until he got the message._
> 
>  
> 
> “ _If you must know, this is Hydra. You and Dr. Pym are our latest recruits. Do what I tell you, and your stay will not have any... complications.” She smiled. It was like a snake smiling, and it sent a chill up his spine._
> 
>  
> 
> “ _Wait, Hydra? I thought—”_
> 
>  
> 
> “ _Steve Rogers buried us in 1945? Hardly. We still live, and you're going to help us make our triumphant return.”_
> 
>  
> 
> _He knew that Hydra was a part of the Nazi party from WWII. He knew that they experimented on the prisoners in Nazi concentration camps to turn them into God knew what. There was no way in hell he was going to help them. “Go fuck yourself, lady,” he snarled. “Like hell I'm helping scumbag Nazis like you!”_
> 
>  
> 
> _She didn't get angry. Instead, she simply grinned, flashing her pearly white teeth and a set of razor sharp fangs where her canines should have been._
> 
>  
> 
> _His eyes grew to saucers. “Wha... what the hell?”_
> 
>  
> 
> “ _Your conviction is admirable, if not pointless. Though, I will admit that you do have a choice in the matter.”_
> 
>  
> 
> “ _Let me guess: I do what you say, I live. I don't, I and Hank die. Right?”_
> 
>  
> 
> “ _Not quite. If you do what I say, you will both live, true,” she admitted. “But, if you don't, I will let you go.”_
> 
>  
> 
> _He sputtered and blinked while his brained struggled to comprehend what she just said. If he blew her off and refused, he would be let go? Just like that? It sounded too good to be true, which meant that it was. “What's the catch?”_
> 
>  
> 
> “ _There is none. Refuse, and I will let you go, unharmed.” Her ebony black lips curled into a venomous smile that made Scott's stomach lurch. “However, you will have some dead weight.” One of the two men behind her pushed a pre-teen girl into the room._
> 
>  
> 
> _Scott felt his mouth go dry. “Cassie!” Cassie, his thirteen year old daughter. Her long, brown hair was still tied in the same ponytail as it was when he kissed her goodbye three days ago. She was still wearing the same blue jeans, pink shirt, and purple hoodie as she was when he left her three days ago to leave for VDI with Hank._
> 
>  
> 
> _They had taken his little girl._
> 
>  
> 
> _Scott felt sick. His skin paled into a pasty, sickly white. His hair was starting to stick to his face as sweat dripped down his face. His breathing was starting to labor. The air was getting hotter, it seemed. Or, maybe that was just him._
> 
>  
> 
> “ _Dad!” She sounded terrified. He could easily hear the tremble in her voice. He could see it in her eyes. Cassie tried to run toward him, but the woman grabbed her arm and yanked her back. She winced in pain._
> 
>  
> 
> _He felt something snap in his chest. “Get off of her!” he roared. He tried to charge at the woman, but the man beside her punched him in the face, sending him spiraling back onto the mattress. Warm blood trickled down his nose and into his mouth._
> 
>  
> 
> “ _Do you still refuse, Mr. Lang?” the woman inquired, a sick amusement in her voice. “Or, do you need further incentive?” She removed the silver handgun from her hip. He noticed that there were several notches on the barrel. Pointing the gun away from everyone, she fired off four shots in rapid succession._
> 
>  
> 
> _Scott and Cassie yelped and covered their heads when the shots were fired. The woman didn't even blink._
> 
>  
> 
> _The woman's head tilted to the side as she pressed the smoking hot barrel of her gun against Cassie's temple. The girl screamed out in pain and tried to get away, which only prompted the woman to tighten her grip on her arm. “Do what I tell you, or I will make you watch me kill your only child,” she stated coldly. “Then, I will let you go, so you can explain to Maggie why her daughter is dead. Do you understand me?”_
> 
>  
> 
> _She... she knew Maggie, his ex-wife. The gun was against Cassie's head. She was going to kill his little girl. He... he couldn't let her... no! “NO! Please! I'll do whatever you want! Just don't hurt my baby, please!”_
> 
>  
> 
> _The woman smiled satisfactorily and holstered her gun. “Very good. Go to your father, little Cassie.”_
> 
>  
> 
> _Scott wrapped his arms around his crying daughter when she fell into him. He hugged her tightly, stroking the back of her head softly. “I'm so sorry, Cassie,” he whispered. He watched the woman and the two men leave without another word._
> 
>  

Cassie was fine, physically, but he was sure she would never recover emotionally or psychologically. She was so young, and being kidnapped and used as a bargaining chip wasn't something someone just got over, no matter how mentally strong. The worst part was knowing that there was nothing he could do to help her. All he could do was keep telling her to be strong and that they were going to be going home soon.

 

Soon kept getting pushed back as the days and weeks rolled by. It had been two months and there wasn't even so much as a murmur of anyone trying to find them. And there was nothing he could do to speed that process along. Today was the first day he had been outside the Hydra base since he arrived. Tony Stark was within a mile of where he took Janet. If there was anyone who could do the most with the least bit of information, it was him.

 

He was too far away for Scott to even attempt to tell him anything. Even if he had, he was sure he would have been greeted by Cassie's corpse when he returned. He and Hank were stuck. As long as Cassie was there, they had no choice but to comply with these madmen. What that meant for Janet, Scott didn't know. He did know that it wasn't going to be good.

 

**Author's Note:**

> I'm still in the process of rewriting it, so I'm not sure how often I'll be able to update, but the first eight chapters will be up pretty quickly since I have those done.


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